


A Light That Does Not Go Dark

by rydia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Kinloch Hold, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mages and Templars, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 79,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rydia/pseuds/rydia
Summary: Cullen Rutherford is making a life for himself as Commander of the Inquisition. But when Mara Amell, the Hero of Ferelden, unexpectedly arrives at Skyhold, she drags up feelings in Cullen that he's tried to ignore for a long time.Now he has to face his past with her, and he wonders at the changes he sees in this woman he could never forget about.And even out of the Circle, it's not that easy for a mage and a former templar to navigate a new relationship.





	1. Chapter 1 – Skyhold

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this fic when taking a break from Four Seasons of Loneliness. Now that Four Seasons is finally complete (!), I'm going to start posting this. Chapters are much shorter than I usually write them, and I'm a good way into the final edit, so updates will be frequent. 
> 
> There will be occasional flashback chapters to the Tower. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition, was having a bad day.

It had begun after a bad night, plagued with old nightmares that had chased him into the morning. He’d woken up shaking and sweating, full of dangerous thoughts that led to more dangerous cravings.

Today, it wasn’t just his head pounding with a vicious headache – he also ached all over. And it wasn’t only physical – even mentally he ached and was weary of always trying to resists the call of the lyrium. It was a day in which he was tired of trying to be strong.

These kinds of days were always the worst, when it felt like everything in him was screaming at him to succumb and take the thing that would make it all better – that little box containing the lyrium that sat in his office, unobtrusive to all but him.

It was always calling him, but today it felt like it was screaming; wailing out to be taken, to sink deep into his bones and _make him feel better_.

But Cullen had not gotten this far by giving in. So he did what he always did, and tried to ignore the cravings as best he could while focusing solely on the mundane.

Make the bed.

Get dressed.

Fix his hair.

Pull on his boots.

Climb down the ladder to his office.

One step at a time. It was a routine that grounded him and prepared him to face the day.

He chose to ignore the slight trembling of his hands.

On this day, this day that started badly, a messenger entered his office just as he reached the last rung of the ladder. They were holding a stack of reports and a large cup of coffee that Cullen knew Leliana was responsible for arranging, and he inwardly perked up a little at the thought of it.

The messenger received barely a grunt in acknowledgement as Cullen took the coffee and the reports, and wisely remained quiet until she could make her retreat from the Commander, who was known to be surly at the best of times, but especially in the mornings.

Taking a large gulp of his coffee, Cullen grimaced and almost spat it out. Whatever this… this _mud_ was, it wasn’t coffee, much less that delicious Antivan coffee he’d been enjoying for the last few weeks. He supposed they must have run out, probably due to the demanding nobles that insisted on loitering around Skyhold, gobbling up all the tiny cakes and now, it seemed, the good coffee.

And whoever had made this should be arrested for a crime, he grumbled to himself. _It wasn’t difficult to make a cup of coffee._

He made his way through the reports swiftly, glad to see there were no emergencies or disasters. Eventually he dismissed the messenger with a note to Leliana, and she bolted out of his office like she was being chased by flames.

His headache got worse, but still remained manageable. But the morning dragged. As far as Cullen could tell, incompetence seemed to be the word of the day, and his patience grew ever thinner. He knew, deep down, that he was being a little unfair on his soldiers. His bad mood couldn’t be blamed on anyone. But still, as he watched them train, he saw only their faults – and these were faults that would get them or their comrades killed in battle.

So he yelled and snapped at them, hoping to see some improvement, but all he was doing was making some of the newest recruits, who had never before seen the Commander on a bad day, extremely nervous. The result was that they made more mistakes, eyes constantly skittering towards the glowering Commander instead of on their opponents.

No one was satisfied with that morning’s training. Cullen watched them take off for the baths, internally grumbling all the while. He itched all over, his skin prickling uncomfortably, and he knew he had to get this nervous energy out somehow if he wanted to have any chance of a restful sleep tonight.

He thought he might find Cassandra later – she was always a good sparring partner.

The sun rose higher in the sky, becoming a cursedly sunny day. On his way back to his office, a scout in a hurry bumped into Cullen, scattering the pile of reports he was carrying everywhere. While the scout apologised and helped retrieve the fallen bits of parchment, there were any number of inconsiderate people around them that didn’t even stop to help. Some of them even stepped on his notes, and blithely kept on walking, unaware of the scowls they were receiving.

Finally, back at his office with his haphazardly recompiled reports, a templar was waiting for Cullen – there were yet more issues with Fiona’s mages, and could the Commander please assist? No, we really can’t deal with it ourselves, it was escalating quickly.

Cullen very much wanted to collectively take all these templars and mages and bang their heads together. Instead he stomped after the templar and yelled at them, mage and templar, until both sides scurried away and he considered his work was done. Perhaps next time they could work out their petty squabbles between themselves and not waste his time.

It was actually a relief for him to make his way to the War Room after lunch to meet with the Inquisitor and the other advisors. Unfortunately, this relief was short lived – it seemed his bad mood was catching all around Skyhold. No one could agree on anything and no one was willing to compromise. Even Inquisitor Trevelyan, who was always aware of her rank and nobility and the rightness of how she should act as the Herald of Andraste, grew peevish and almost childish as they bickered across the war table. Leliana’s mouth tightened and Josephine pinched the brow of her nose and Cullen suspected he wasn’t the only one with a headache.

The interruption of a knock at the door might have been warmly received if it meant they could take a break from their endless back and forth, but it was common knowledge not to disturb them in the War Room unless it was absolutely necessary. It was very likely that something had happened that was about to make Cullen’s day even worse.

He glared at the door before it could even be opened.

A guardsman nervously shuffled in. He was slightly out of breath and looked distinctly apprehensive of being in this room with the Inquisition leaders. “If you’ll excuse me, Inquisitor, for the interruption, but we have a bit of a situation at the gate.”

“What is it?” Trevelyan asked evenly, crossing her arms. She was frowning and Cullen guessed her thoughts were similar to his – that this was only going to be trouble.

“Well you see,” the guards eyes flickered from the Inquisitor to Leliana, his nerves apparent. “There’s a woman at the gate calling herself the Hero of Ferelden; that is, she says her name is Mara Amell.”

Cullen’s sharp inhale of breath was matched by Leliana’s. He felt like his heart stopped entirely for a moment, before taking up a pounding beat in his chest. The guard was still talking, but Cullen felt like he was hearing it from underwater.

“In truth, she’s not the first one to try it – we get a lot of, ah, odd people, you know – and we thought: she doesn’t look like a Grey Warden and aren’t they supposed to be gone, anyway? But, well, she had this letter on her. Says it’s from Sister Leliana. Has the seal on it.” He held it up for them to see.

“ _What_?” Leliana stepped forward and took it from the guard, inspecting it carefully. “This is indeed the letter I sent her.” She glanced back at Josephine and Cullen. “I don’t understand. She sent no written reply back with my scouts who found her, as you know. She told them to leave her alone and I thought that was that. I never expected her to actually come to Skyhold.”

“Perhaps she is in trouble?” Josephine wondered.

Cullen shook his head, a feeling he couldn’t name and didn’t want to think about rippling up his spine. “Or perhaps it is not her at all,” he snapped. He did not feel equipped to deal with today. Even with the passage of time, Mara Amell was a complicated topic for him to think about. “Perhaps the letter is stolen, and it is someone masquerading as her.”

In that moment, he wasn’t sure which option was worse – it being an imposter or it actually being her.

Leliana shrugged. “That would be foolish; they must know that I could identify them.”

“And perhaps it is a demon?”

Leliana gave him a baleful look. “I very much doubt that, Commander.” She turned back to the guard. “What did she look like?”

Wide-eyed, the guard stuttered out an answer. “Dark hair. Carrying a fancy looking staff. The lads noticed her right away. If you’ll excuse me saying, she catches the attention, you know. She, er, she was a bit rude though.”

“Sounds like her,” Leliana muttered. Cullen silently agreed.

“Where is she now?” Trevelyan asked. She had a thoughtful look on her face.

“In the courtyard, Your Worship. She was getting a bit of attention at the gate so we brought her in. There’s guards with her.”

Trevelyan nodded. “Thank you for informing us.” She glanced back at her advisors. “We’ll go to her now.”

Cullen let them all file out in front of him, taking a moment to gather himself. Nerves flared up inside him, and he still couldn’t decide how he felt. His feelings for Mara and what had happened between them… it may have been ten years ago, but Cullen could admit that moving on from his past, including her, was still very much a work in progress for him. And he was sensible enough to know immediately that his reaction to the news that she was here was a clear indication he hadn’t moved on. And despite what he’d said, he truly didn’t think that was an imposter or a demon waiting for them in the courtyard.

No, for some reason, Mara Amell, someone he never expected to see again, has decided to come to Skyhold.

And he just couldn’t decide how he should feel about it.


	2. Chapter 2 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen didn’t want to linger too long in the War Room, so he quickly pulled himself together and hurried out. He caught up with the Inquisitor just as she stepped out of the great hall and paused at the top of the steps overlooking the courtyard.

Leliana gave a sharp inhale of breath beside her, and he heard the Inquisitor asking “Is it her?” before he heard nothing, because that was indeed the woman who’d Cullen had been convinced he’d been in love with, years ago. His ward. A mage. A woman that was forbidden to him, but who he’d become entangledwith anyway. And then she’d left, the Circle had broken, and a demon had used his feelings for her to torture him.

Quickly pushing away those unpleasant memories, Cullen blindly followed the others down the steps, hardly knowing what to do with himself but completely unable to take his eyes off Mara Amell. As Leliana embraced her and began introductions, he still stared.

She looked older, of course. He thought she seemed taller than she had been in the Tower, but he couldn’t be sure. Fleetingly, he realised he’d know if she stepped closer to him, close enough to kiss him, a memoryof just that rushing up unbidden.

He brushed it away.

Mara was leaner, with muscles on her arms and legs that a Circle mage would never have. It was almost… startling to see her outside, in the light of day. Despite knowing she’d been out of the Circle for a decade, he still pictured her inside that gloomy Tower that was always too dark. He’d never seen the wind blow her hair before, or the sun warm her skin.

But she looked tired. There was a tightness around her eyes – those expressive, dark eyes that had always seemed to Cullen to hold endless promises. With the shadows under them, they looked even bigger than he remembered, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her dark, glossy hair was just as long as it had been when in the Circle, tied in a messy braid that tumbled all the way down her back. Shorter hairs curled around her face – again, just like they had when she had been younger.

She was holding herself rigid, nodding at introductions, only softening slightly for Leliana, but obviously clearly tense. Mara’s mouth, that mouth that he had kissed so long ago in memories he was both scared to dwell on but never wanted to forget, remained downturned. She wore nondescript travelling clothes, with nothing to indicate she was a Grey Warden. Her staff was just as fancy as the guard had mentioned, an ice staff with a shimmering orb, engraved with ruins, obviously well used and familiar to its owner. It was a contrast to her plain clothing, which seemed more designed for her to blend in. Any staff gave her away as a mage, and something like this marked her as a more powerful mage, perhaps a senior or First Enchanter to anyone who mistook her for a Circle mage. In these times, that was dangerous.

But anyone with any sense would take a further look, and see the posture and steeliness of her. This was obviously no uncertain mage running in the aftermath of the war.

Mara had been out of the Circle for a long time, and it showed.

And she was still so very beautiful that it took his breath away. Since the day Cullen had first laid eyes on Mara Amell, she’d become the ideal he’d always compared every other woman to.

His heart was still thudding rapidly in his chest, and his gut still continued to twist with nerves, knowing Leliana would soon introduce him.

And sure enough, suddenly Mara was in front of him, the introductions to Trevelyan and Josephine over with, so close he could see the small number of freckles that dotted across her face, and a trace of a scar running down a cheek. So close to see that no, she actually wasn’t any taller than he’d remembered. She was just _tall_.

Leliana’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “And I believe you know our Commander Cullen?”

Their eyes met, and Cullen felt like the boy he had been the first time they’d spoken, back when he’d been a new templar who got tongue tied around a pretty girl who was looking at him.

He was still such a fool.

“Mara…” he whispered, and she did not smile. Her expression was inscrutable as she stared at him, perhaps cataloguing all the changes in him over the last ten years as he’d just done to her. But the truth was that he had no idea what she was thinking – then again, he didn’t think he ever had. Mara’s glances and even her smiles had always been difficult to figure out. Her motivations, and her interest in him, had always been a mystery he couldn’t decipher.

Mara tilted her head up towards him, her eyes intense. “Cullen. It’s good to see you.” Her voice was subdued, but hearing the pleasant low timbre of it again sent a jolt through him. A memory – a forbidden one – of the noises she’d made in pleasure when he kissed her neck came flooding back.

He swallowed heavily, pushing the memory away. “You too.” Something shifted in her countenance then. He thought – he wished? – it warmed slightly, her face brightening as she looked at him.

Mara looked like she was going to say something else, but Leliana swallowed her up, leading her away. It was clear Leliana was excited to have an old friend back, and distantly Cullen thought that it was nice to see her happy, a break from her often sombre demeanour. He watched them go, rooted to the spot, unable to move or tear his eyes away. Just as she was about to disappear out his sight around a corner, Mara paused and turned back. Those dark eyes flicked towards Cullen, unfathomable, and he held his breath, staring right back at her.

For a second, everything stood still.

But too soon, she turned away, following Leliana into the bustle of Skyhold.

Cullen let out a shaky breath.

Both Josephine and Trevelyan were watching him with open curiosity.

“That was…” Josephine glanced to where Mara had been and then back to Cullen, “strangely intense.”

Trevelyan said something, but Cullen didn’t take it in. He was oblivious to everything around him, and he turned and blindly made his way back to his office. This time, it was he who bumped into someone and kept walking, hardly noticing, needing to be alone as quick as possible.

It was with extreme relief that he shut the door to his office behind him, a physical block against the world outside and the woman who was turning his thoughts to chaos. For a long few moments he leaned against the door, staring and unseeing.

He had thought of Mara often – too often – over the years, even when he knew he shouldn’t, and replayed every one of their encounters in his head far more than was necessary. Sometimes in anger, sometimes with longing, nearly always with confusion. He’d never been able to forget about her. It was hard to make sense of his feelings, even after all this time, even without the way the demon, and later Meredith, had tried to twist those feelings up into something terrible. But even though he’d sometimes dwelled on her, he’d been unwilling to examine his feelings deeply and think back on a time before, when he was still so hopeful and naive.

Cullen sighed, pushing himself from the door and stumbling over into the chair at his desk. Resting his head in his hands, he took deep, even breaths. 

He sat for a long time, refusing to drown in the memories, just breathing. The sudden knock on the door jolted him upright and his heart – which had finally calmed down – started thundering in his chest again.

What if this was Mara? What would he say to her?

But it was Cassandra, as brisk as ever. She took a few steps into his office, before folding her arms and regarding him impassively.

“Get up Commander, and meet me in the training ring in ten minutes. I am tired of hearing people complain about how unpleasant you are today.”

She made no mention of Mara, the Hero she’d searched for fruitlessly. But Cullen guessed she’d heard – gossip and news spread quickly here. And it was clear that Cassandra was also not in a good mood, so she probably was aware of the new arrival.

Or perhaps his own bad mood was indeed contagious.

Not that it mattered. The distraction was a relief – even if sparring with Cassandra often meant he got knocked on his backside. No, he’d take that for the blessed break it would give him from thinking about everything else and wondering what kind of upheaval the arrival of Mara Amell would bring into his life and having to consider if maybe, he _wanted_ that upheaval..


	3. Chapter 3 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

It was only mere hours into his first official day on duty as a new templar at Kinloch Hold that Cullen noticed Mara Amell. He thought it was impossible not to notice someone like her. He was in the library, and she was working with her mentor – meaning she was an apprentice. Cullen guessed she was around the same age as him, maybe a little bit younger. Her face was a calm mask of concentration as she practiced ice spells, seemingly directing her blades of ice with little effort.

Her mentor praised her, and Cullen was struck by the image of this young woman, surrounded by ice, wearing a blue robe. She had long dark hair that flowed free, spilling around her shoulders and down her back in the most enticing way. She was really very pretty, he thought, and she seemed so elegant as she accepted her mentor’s words with a nod, like it was nothing she hadn’t expected.

The Circle Tower tended to be dark – only the upper floors of the tower had large windows that let in substantial natural light. They used a lot of candles here. Cullen thought it was a bit gloomy and then tried to forget he’d had that thought – he didn’t want to be negative, and he’d get used to it. But even in the dim room, this woman seemed to glow, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

A grunt from the templar next to him brought Cullen back to himself. His name was Alfric, an older templar, cynical from his years serving the Templar Order. Cullen had been instructed to shadow him for a few days, to get the feel for the Circle and the mages it contained. Alfric knew everybody, and apparently everybody’s business, too.

As he was still riding on the high of completing his vigil and excited to finally be a templar, Cullen tried not to let Alfric bring him down. But it was difficult. Alfric was crotchety. He didn’t seem to like anyone – mage or templar, but especially mage – and Cullen wasn’t sure if Alfric was actually imparting knowledge or just being a gossip.

“That’s one to watch out for,” Alfric began with relish. He nodded towards the mage Cullen had been watching. “Mara Amell. Talented apprentice, the First Enchanter’s favourite. But she’s officially a ‘troublemaker.’” He glanced sideways at Cullen and lowered his voice. “A little bitch, if you ask me.”

Cullen gave a start in surprise and displeasure, and cut his own eyes towards Alfric. He didn’t want to talk back against a superior on his very first day, but surely there was no need to speak about someone like that? He glanced back at the young woman in question – _Mara_ , he thought with relish – who was still calmly practicing spells. She seemed focused and disciplined. Alfric’s harsh words seemed very unfair, as well as rude.

Cullen decided to be diplomatic, hoping Alfric wouldn’t say anything like that again. “Why do you say that?”

Alfric scoffed, like the answer should be obvious. “Thinks because she’s good with her magic she can talk to us however she likes. I don’t take any cheek from her, but she’s always pushing. Had to drain her mana a few times to teach her a lesson. They don’t like that, you know. And she’s too clever.” Alfric said this like it was a fundamental flaw in a person. “If there were ever a blood mage in the making, it’s her.”

Cullen’s skin felt prickly and hot. He was growing more and more uncomfortable with this conversation, but he didn’t know what to say.

So he said nothing, and Alfric just kept talking.

“She’s friends with that Jowan, too.” He nodded in the direction of another mage in the library, who seemed to be doing decidedly less well than Mara with his magic. Alfric’s voice got even lower. “Another one to keep an eye on. That one’ll probably be made Tranquil.”

He continued on in this vein, as mages came and left the library. Cullen felt sick. He knew what mages were, of course, and the dangers they posed. But he had become a templar to help them – to protect mages from themselves and other people from mages who lost control. He couldn’t understand this attitude Alfric had towards the people he was supposed to be protecting.

Cullen sincerely hoped Alfric was an exception among templars and that it was just bad luck he’d been stuck with such an unpleasant man on his first day.

So he continued to keep quiet. He simply stood in silence, letting Alfric talk at him until he finally, mercifully, stopped speaking. Cullen had paid attention while he spoke – at the very least, he was learning names – but now he was free to turn his attention elsewhere.

His gaze inevitably turned back to the woman, Mara, who was now poring over a book. By her side was that other mage, Jowan, Alfric had called him. The two talked quietly to each other.

Cullen wondered what her voice sounded like.

As if she’d sensed his gaze, Mara looked up, meeting his eyes. Embarrassed to have been caught, Cullen shuffled his feet and looked away, before realising that was ridiculous – he was there to watch mages. This was his job. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

So, with only slight hesitation, he looked back at her, meeting her eyes. To his surprise she was also still watching him, and she raised her eyebrows, as if asking Cullen a silent question.

She really was _very_ pretty.

“See?” snapped Alfric irritably. “What does she think she’s doing, looking at us like that?”

Mara’s eyes slid away from Cullen and towards Alfric. Cullen was surprised by the sneer that crossed her face. But she did look away then, turning her attention back to her book and her friend.

After that, Cullen tried to be a bit more discreet when he looked at her – but he did continue looking at her.

And later, as Mara Amell left the library, she made a point to walk directly by him. Catching his eye, she gave him a wink and a smile as she passed.

Cullen thanked the Maker that Alfric didn’t notice. But his own heart pounded and his palms were sweaty. She was even more stunning up close. He didn’t think he’d ever get that image of her out of his head – as she walked towards him with her mouth curved upwards, that long hair, clever eyes, translucent skin and those robes falling around, frankly, sinful curves.

He realised, straight away, that it would be best if he did get that image out of his head.

Keeping it there would be dangerous.


	4. Chapter 4 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

When Cullen thought about it, it was surprising that Mara hadn’t been more of a fixture in his nightmares over the years. The demon at Kinloch had mockingly worn her shape, but his terrors nearly always showed him its true form.

But sometimes she would appear. More than once, he’d dreamt about her Harrowing, which had been a success. But in the dream she failed, and rose as an abomination that he had to strike down.

Sometimes _he_ failed, and jerked awake when the abomination struck him, claws raking through his armour like it was parchment, rending his flesh.

And sometimes she would appear in Kirkwall, a place he had never seen her in, looking at him accusingly.

And sometimes, in Kirkwall, she would be a casualty of his own actions – or inaction, as the case may be. She was one of the many mages who died, her face appearing in a pile of bodies.

Rarely – so very rarely – the dream would be pleasant: her lips against his in an unknown place. Her teasing smile and inviting eyes. A simple touch of her fingers brushing against his hand. A table set in his childhood home; his siblings, and Mara, and him, sitting around it together.

They were pleasant until he woke up. Then he felt foolish for still lingering over a youthful infatuation. He felt empty, and tried to push the memory of the dream away, like he did with all of them.

But Cullen dreamt of her the night she arrived in Skyhold. This dream was a new one. Mara was sitting in the Inquisitor’s throne with cold eyes that rested on him. All around him, he was surrounded by nobles, waiting gleefully for the judgement Mara would bring on him, whispering behind their masks and hands that he was going to get what he deserved.

He waited for his judgement, his anxiety ramping up as time passed. But Mara just just stared and stared at him, unblinking, until he woke up.

The whole day, he was on edge, expecting Mara to seek out him like she always had back in the Circle.

But she did not.

His days went on as they normally would, and there was no mention in his vicinity of the arrival of the Hero of Ferelden.

Cullen could only come to the conclusion that whatever Mara was here for, it had nothing to do with him.

And he decided to ignore the part of him that was hurt by that, because he had no _right_ to be hurt about it. It bothered him that he didn’t know what she was doing here, but he resisted the urge to ask. Leliana said nothing on the topic, at least not to him, and Cullen had no idea how much she knew about his relationship with Mara. Josephine and the Inquisitor also never brought her up. Cullen wasn’t sure if that was because they were worried about mentioning her around him, or if there was simply nothing to say.

Perhaps she just wasn’t that important to anyone but him.

Once or twice he did notice her around Skyhold, usually passing through the courtyard, but he was busy enough to be able to avoid her and she didn’t seem to be seeking him out either.

He kept telling himself that avoidance was the best option for him to take, and that she would surely not be remaining at Skyhold for long.

It wasn’t like she was here to see _him_ anyway.

 

\---

 

But he remained conflicted.

The thought of Mara leaving Skyhold without him ever having spoken to her left Cullen feeling rattled and unsettled. It seemed wrong.

And it was because Cullen knew very well that he wanted to see her and speak to her – that he yearned for it just as much as the idea of it made him anxious. He wanted to clear the air between them. Perhaps speaking to her would allow him to finally put his confusing feelings for her to rest.

But still, when he saw Mara, he avoided her.

It was easier to turn away from her than to deal with her turning away from him.

As was Cullen’s way, he threw himself into his work – even more so than usual. And it was around this time that he realised how fortunate he was in his friends at Skyhold: a realisation that was both surprising and comforting.

Dorian had clearly picked up on Cullen’s mood. But he never mentioned it directly; instead, he insisted on Cullen taking regular breaks from work to eat or to play chess with him. Quite often he’d have some sweet delicacies he’d charmed his way into getting from Josephine or from one of the cooks. The fancy cakes and best coffee were supposed to be kept for the highest ranking dignitaries visiting Skyhold. But Dorian made sure at least some of every shipment went into his pocket, and he shared with his friends.

Cullen mostly allowed it, unless he was feeling particularly swamped, and that is how he found himself in the courtyard on a sunny day with Dorian, a little over a week after Mara’s arrival. He was focused on the game, having lost the last two after a commendable winning streak. But despite how taciturn he was being, Dorian was managing to keep up a very one-sided conversation.

A short laugh near them caught the attention of both men. Cassandra stood, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, regarding Dorian.

“You really do like the sound of your own voice, Dorian.”

Dorian gave Cassandra his most dashing smile. “Of course. My mellifluous tones would make Andraste herself weep with pleasure.” Despite himself, Cullen smiled, but Cassandra made an exasperated noise, clearly less than impressed. Dorian continued. “Anyway, the good Commander isn’t talking so I must talk to myself. It’s a good thing I like my own company.”

Cassandra ignored Dorian now and fixed her gaze on Cullen. “Is everything alright, Cullen?”

His smile faded and he waved a hand dismissively, not wanting to talk about himself. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine.”

She looked completely unconvinced but nodded. Cullen knew she wouldn’t push the issue in public, so he relaxed and tried to focus again on the game. But Cassandra’s voice distracted him again.

“Do you know what the Hero of Ferelden is actually _doing_ at Skyhold?” She sounded disgruntled.

Cullen couldn’t help but look up and follow her gaze, to where Mara was walking towards them. He froze, unable to tear his eyes away.

“You don’t know?” asked Dorian, clearly curious.

“No. I’m beginning to think Leliana herself does not know. She hasn’t been very forthcoming on the subject.”

Mara looked like she’d come in through the open gate – where she was obviously able to enter and leave as she’d like, now that her identity was known – and was heading towards the stairs near where they were sitting. Her eyes were downcast. She still looked tired, Cullen thought.

As she reached the steps near them, Dorian and Cassandra quieted, and Mara raised her eyes. Like she’d been drawn to him, her gaze immediately met Cullen’s, and he felt a spark of energy run through him, settling in his stomach. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, as if to speak.

Cullen whipped his head back around to look down at the chessboard. He stared at it like it was the most interesting thing in Thedas, but was still aware of Dorian beginning to rise from his seat before dropping back down.

“Well,” said Dorian. “I was going to introduce myself, but she just ran away. How very rude. Would you happen to know why she did that, Commander?” Cullen leaned back in his seat and looked up to see Mara heading steadily up the steps. Soon she was out of sight.

He glanced at Dorian, who was watching him with shrewd interest. Cullen really didn’t want to talk about this, not yet, but he also didn’t want to lie to his friend. “I used to know her, in… in Ferelden. Before. We did not part on good terms.”

Dorian and Cassandra exchanged a look. “You never mentioned you knew the Hero of Ferelden before, Cullen.” Cassandra sounded almost accusatory.

“It was hardly relevant, Cassandra,” he replied impatiently, cutting his eyes away from her.

A knowing look crossed into Cassandra’s face, and she softened. “So, you knew her before she was a Warden?” Cassandra might not have known he knew the Hero of Ferelden, but she did know what had happened at Kinloch Hold.

Cullen sighed. “Yes. I do not wish to speak about it.”

Despite their obvious curiosity, both Dorian and Cassandra had the decency to drop the subject, but Cullen’s thoughts were on the woman he’d just watch disappear up the steps, and he knew that he couldn’t keep avoiding the past.

 

\---

 

That evening, after some very long meetings, Cullen returned to his office to find it occupied. His heart started beating double time at the sight of Mara, leaning against the wall behind his desk. She was looking out the window into the growing darkness, and did not turn at his entrance. There were only a handful of candles lit in the room, and she was shrouded in darkness.

He stepped fully inside, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she turn, her eyes fathomless depths, regarding him stoically.

He should not have been surprised that she was here, especially after what had happened in the courtyard earlier. When he thought back to their short time together at Kinloch, she had always sought him out. He had always been the one edging – or outright running – away.

Despite knowing he couldn’t keep avoiding her, Cullen still wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for this conversation.

So, gathering himself like he was preparing for battle, Cullen decided he would not let her know that she still affected him.

“Warden Commander,” he said formally. “Can I assist you?”

Mara raised an eyebrow, looking surprised at the use of her title. “Commander Rutherford,” she replied, slightly mockingly. “Can you tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

Despite the fact that he had indeed been avoiding her, irritation sparked in him. Stepping further into the room, he dumped his papers on the desk, further irritated that her voice still sounded so nice. “I’m a busy man, Warden. You are hardly a priority.”

Something flashed in her eyes, and she clenched her jaw before turning back to look out the window. Cullen could see the tensing of her shoulders, and her arms came up to wrap around herself.

“No, I suppose not,” she murmured, like something had been confirmed for her.

Her response and body language surprised him. Before, she’d always been so confident, and she’d always have something smart to say, an answer or a quip, a ready smirk at her lips. She’d have replied to his comment sarcastically, or she might have snapped back.

This Mara did none of these things.

Cullen rounded the desk to face her. When she looked up at him, he gestured towards the door. “Will that will be all?” There was a harsh bite in his voice that made him want to wince. While it came mostly from his own uncertainty, he was aware that he was being very rude.

He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to deal with her, especially not in his own space like this.

Mara’s eyes widened, but she did not say anything or drop her gaze. She simply stared at him like she was searching for something, almost imploringly. Her scrutiny made him nervous, as it always had, but Cullen was no longer a boy who stuttered around a pretty girl, no matter how she made him feel. Mara may still haunt his dreams and cause his pulse to race like no other, but he would not allow her to have power over him here.

She soon dropped her eyes, and a sigh escaped her. “I suppose so.” It took Cullen a second to remember what he’d last said to her, too taken aback by the resignation in her voice. He frowned as she pushed herself away from the wall and walked towards the door, pausing only when she had one hand on the handle, twisting it in her hand. Then she turned and looked back at him over her shoulder. Her face was grave. “I’m glad you’re doing okay. Take care of yourself, Cullen.” With that, she opened the door and walked out.

Cullen was mystified, and stared at the door that swung shut behind her, resisting the urge to follow her. Who was this passive, quiet, creature? It was nothing like the Mara he’d known, who had been a passionate, defiant woman with a crude sense of humour who never knew when to shut up. She’d been a whirling force of nature, much like the elements she commanded.

What had _happened_ to her?


	5. Chapter 5 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 More days slipped by. Quickly, as days tended to do in Skyhold. There was always much to be done. Despite being so busy, Cullen thought about Mara constantly. He didn’t see her anywhere, making him wonder if she was avoiding _him_ after their encounter. It seemed a little preposterous, but then, he hadn’t exactly been welcoming towards her.

He dreamed of her again, but now the quiet creature who’d been in his office occupied his mind.

He dreamed of her saying _“take care of yourself, Cullen”_ before walking out of his life forever.

His dread about seeing her shifted into fear that she had left Skyhold, along with a feeling of guilt which had started as something small after she’d left his office, but which grew larger and larger as the days passed. There had been no reason for him to speak to her like that – she hadn’t done anything wrong. Whatever relationship they’d had in Kinloch and however Mara had acted, Cullen had been the templar. The impetus had been on him to stop anything inappropriate happening, and he’d failed spectacularly.

Not to mention that she had saved his life, and he’d never even thanked her for it.

Even disregarding all that, Cullen should know better than to judge someone by how they were in the past. Mara could be prickly, which was hardly a crime, and she could very well have changed. If the way she’d acted in his office was any indication, she had.

He should have spoken to her properly, especially when she had been the one to come to him. Now that Cullen finally felt ready to deal with her, he worried he had missed his chance.

The Inquisitor had left with a small group for the Forbidden Oasis. In her absence, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine kept Skyhold ticking over, as they always did. The organisation was becoming large and unwieldy, but was still functioning as well as could be hoped.

Cullen had so far resisted asking Leliana anything about Mara, but he caved a couple of days after his encounter with her in his office. They’d taken care of business and were winding down their meeting.

“Leliana, may I ask you – is the Hero of Ferelden still at Skyhold?” He tried very hard to keep his tone neutral.

Leliana and Josephine exchanged a glance Cullen couldn’t decipher. She sighed. “Yes, she is. For now.”

“For now?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one day she just disappeared, Cullen. I don’t know why she’s here and, to be truthful, I don’t think even _she_ knows why she came to Skyhold.” Leliana sounded tired.

Josephine continued. “I have spoken to her about if she’d like to officially join the Inquisition, to assist in some capacity – the Inquisitor might have banished the Wardens, but the Hero is more than just a Grey Warden to many. But she declined. Rather rudely, I might add.” Josephine shook her head. “In truth, I’m not sure what to make of her, or what to do. During the day, she spends time in the encampments. I believe she is assisting the healers, which is something. But she wanders the battlements at night, like she is haunting Skyhold like a ghost.”

Leliana gave a small, bitter laugh. “That’s an apt way of putting it.”

“Has she told you anything of what she’s been doing for the last few years?” asked Cullen.

“Very little,” Leliana shook her head. She leaned onto the war table, bowed. “Cullen, I must admit that I’m worried about her. She is not the woman she once was.”

“Yes,” he said carefully. “I had noticed she seemed much changed.”

“Have you spoken to her?” There was a hopeful note in Leliana’s voice, and Cullen hated to dash it.

“Very briefly. But she… was not who I remembered.”

Josephine sighed. “I do not know what to do – many are asking about her, wanting to meet her, wondering if she’s supporting the Inquisition. It would be good for us – in Ferelden, particularly – but it’s like she wants nothing to do with any of it. Which is why I don’t understand why she’s here.”

“I’ll try speaking to her again,” Leliana said, sounding resigned. “Although I feel she is avoiding me.”

“Would you… would you like me to speak to her?” Cullen asked, hesitant.

She shrugged. “Only if you wish.” A delicate pause. “I know your past with her is complicated. I would not ask it of you.”

“I will consider it.” Cullen could see the curiosity on Josephine’s face, but was grateful she didn’t ask any questions. He also wondered just how much Leliana knew of his past with Mara. But he suppose it hardly mattered.

Leliana simply nodded at him, pleased that he offered that much, and the three of them fell back to their never-ending work.

 

\---

 

Cullen had told Leliana he would consider speaking to Mara. Even as he said it, he knew he would do it.

He had probably been wrong to put it off as he had. All he was doing was tying himself up in knots.

But he still dwelled on the decision for the rest of the day, unsure how to approach her and what to say.

That night he walked the battlements, hoping to find her there after Josephine’s comment. To his surprise, it didn’t take him long – she stood on a quiet spot near the gardens, although she was facing the snowy mountains that surrounded Skyhold. Even at a distance and in the dim light, Cullen knew it was her.

He observed her for a moment. Her hair was loose, blowing haphazardly in the wind that was steadily picking up even since Cullen had started his search for her. But she herself was still as a statue, staring ahead into the growing darkness.

A voice by his ear caused him to spin around, reaching for his sword.

“Banished from her blood, it no longer sings to her.”

Cullen relaxed. “Makers breath, _Cole_ , don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Cole ignored him, fixated on the same figure Cullen had been.

“But she thinks it was a mistake. A lengthy, lonely life. Worthless. Weary. Warden no more. It is her fault, always her fault, a faithless fake, causing ruin when she tries to renew, and so they all leave. Her past is past but present again, and a priority for no one but she.”

Cole fell silent, and Cullen digested his words, trying to make sense of them, once more turning his gaze to Mara. While Cole put him on edge and Cullen had little to do with him, he appreciated any insight into Mara – even if it was the abstract kind of insight that came from this spirit.

When he did not move for a few minutes, Cole sighed beside him. “You both want the same.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. He doubted that could be true when he wasn’t even entirely sure what he wanted himself.

Cole seemed to get more agitated. “She thinks of you just as much as you think of her.” Cullen felt like that was impossible, but Cole didn’t lie, did he? “I don’t understand why you won’t speak to her. ”

“I-I will, it is just… difficult.”

“It shouldn't be.’ Cole sounded unimpressed. Cullen, having had enough of this, turned to tell him to leave. He started slightly when he realised Cole had already disappeared.

Pushing the thoughts of the unnerving young man out of his head, Cullen stepped towards Mara. She was still leaning out over the parapet, gazing into nothing.

Of course, when he actually reached her, he found he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Ah, Warden Commander, are you–”

“Mara.” Her voice was soft, but it stopped his awkward greeting in its tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Would you please call me by my name? I’m no longer Warden Commander.” There was no bite in her voice, just a genuine request. He wished she’d look at him, but she continued staring straight ahead.

The wind began to howl, and despite his many layers and furred mantle, Cullen felt the cold begin to penetrate him. It was then he noticed the clothing Mara was wearing – just a thin looking shirt and trousers, not even a cloak.

“As you wish… Mara.” He paused. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

Cullen frowned. He noticed her shiver, and she still wouldn’t look at him. “You are clearly not _fine_.”

She sighed and seemed to sink further into the stone she was leaning on. “It doesn’t matter, Cullen, just leave me.” There was still no fire to her voice, just an empty tiredness.

It angered him.

“ _No_ ,” he said forcibly. “I don’t want a report in the morning telling me the Hero of Ferelden was found frozen to death on the battlements of Skyhold.”

A shoulder raised carelessly. “There are worse ways to go.”

For a second, Cullen thought he had misheard her. Her voice was a whisper, carried to him on the rising wind. Then, his anger surged and he stepped closer.

“You can either come with me willingly, or I will have guards escort you inside. I’m not letting you hurt yourself like this.”

He could see her back tense up and she scoffed. “Guards? Or templars? To drain my magic and drag me around?”

Despite her words, her anger relieved Cullen. Something about the way she’d blankly said ‘ _there are worse ways to go’_ scared him. He didn’t know how to deal with that, but anger – that he could deal with.

“No,” he said evenly, keeping his temper under control with some effort. “Guards to help you inside to a fire, to warm you up.” He moved even closer to her, not allowing himself to think too much about what he was doing. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. He could feel how cold she was through his glove.

Mara seemed to sag under his touch, but she didn’t flinch away.

The last time he’d touched her shoulder it had been in farewell.

He didn’t know what this was.

“Please, Mara.”

With a sigh she straightened and turned, keeping her eyes averted from his face. “Lead the way, _Commander_ ,” she said quietly, but still with a shadow of her old self in the way she spoke.

He’d removed his hand from her shoulder as soon as she’d moved, but he could still feel her, like she’d burned him despite the cold and the layers of fabric between their skin.

Staying silent, Cullen turned and walked slowly back towards his tower. He could hear her following him, so didn’t turn to check on her. All he could think about was getting her indoors and warm.

The silence between them was heavy. When they reached his office, he ushered her inside. Quickly, he removed a pile of books from a chair so he could place it in front of his desk. “Sit,” he said quietly, gesturing to the chair. Mara did so, with an obedience that surprised him.

She still didn’t look at him, still staring at nothing in particular. Gingerly she sat, shivering.

Cullen looked around his office, now wondering at the wisdom of bringing her here. There was a giant hole in the roof, after all. It never got warm in his tower.

No, he really hadn’t thought this through. But Skyhold was as nosy and as gossipy as a Circle, so he didn’t want to bring her anywhere else and risk questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. At least he had privacy here.

Deciding to continue on this course, Cullen pulled off his heavy mantle without thinking too hard on it, and draped it gently around Mara’s shoulders. She started in surprise but he was gratified when her fingers curled into the furred mane, drawing it around her.

He swallowed heavily, dragging his eyes away from the sight of her in his clothes and focused on the rest of the room.

The brazier in his office was already burning, but he still lit a number of candles, hoping it would be enough to warm her up. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey he kept in his desk. It was a very occasional vice, and the bottle was still more than half full. He opened it and handed it to her.

“It’s usually just me, so I don’t have a glass. But it will help warm you up.”

Finally she looked up at him, and Cullen was taken aback at the dark circles under her eyes, at the tiredness that seemed to permeate everything about her. Her skin was disconcertingly pale. Josephine’s description of her as a ghost was very apt.

Mara stared at the bottle for a moment, before gingerly taking it from him. Carefully she pulled a long drink, grimacing at the taste.

When she gave it back to Cullen, he too took a deep drink, despite his better judgement. He retreated to his own chair, needing some space between them, and placed the bottle in the middle of the desk, a clear invitation to her if she wanted more. It clunked as it hit the wood, the sound loud in the quiet room.

After a few minutes, Mara’s shivering subsided. She took a few more pulls from the whiskey, and kept his mantle wrapped tightly around herself, but she definitely looked warmer. She’d once again averted her eyes from Cullen.

Cullen took the time to watch her, waiting for her to warm up as he tried to decide what to say to her, but he found the silence wasn’t too uncomfortable. In that moment, if he had only been allowed one word to describe Mara, it would have been weary. Everything about her seemed spent.

He recognised it because he knew what it felt like. The bone crushing fatigue of fighting every day – be it an actual physical battle or an invisible one, like the one he fought with himself to resist lyrium. Some days were better than others, but it was still unceasing, always there.

Mara’s eyes still held a blankness, and he was surprised when they began to droop, struggling to stay open.

But when she began to nod off, he didn’t wake her. Cullen didn’t stop to consider that having her here, sleeping, was a terrible idea. All he could think was that she really needed the rest.

For a moment he had an internal debate, before giving up and carefully – and somewhat awkwardly – carrying her up the ladder and gently placing her on his bed. He removed his mantle and wrapped a blanket around her and then fidgeted, unsure. Mara didn’t stir once, her breathing even.

In sleep, her face had relaxed, and Cullen had to force himself to turn away.

He tried not to think too much about what he was doing, just glad that she was warm and sleeping normally.

His own weariness began to make itself known, so he removed his armour, leaving himself decent in his underclothes. Pulling his mantle around himself, he settled down on the floor and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, which, truthfully, was not very comfortable at all.

In vain he attempted to forget what it was like to have her in his arms once again.


	6. Chapter 6 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

“You’re new.”

It was with a small amount of trepidation that Cullen observed Mara Amell approaching him as he stood guard, early one morning. It was his fifth day as a templar, and he was now approved to be able to work without supervision.

It was early, and there were few people in the library. At Mara’s shoulder was her friend Jowan, who rolled his eyes at her statement. “Nothing gets by you, Mara.”

“Shoo, Jowan,” she replied mildly, “I’m talking to the new templar.” Not once did Mara take her eyes off Cullen.

Jowan tutted. “Fine. Be nice, he looks like he scares easily.” Cullen looked at him with a frown, but Jowan was already striding away.

The last few days had been uneventful. He’d spent a lot of time surreptitiously looking at Mara who – like him – was often in the library. He tried not to, but something about her just drew him in. And for someone deemed a troublemaker by Alfric, she spent a lot of time studying and practicing her magic and appeared to do little else. Aside from that interaction during their first encounter, he hadn’t seen her do or say anything untoward.

But now she’d strode up to him, bold as brass. Most mages, with the exception of the most senior enchanters who conferred with the templars on some issues, ignored or avoided templars, doing their best to pretend they weren’t there, watching all the time. There were those who were harmless but disrespectful, and then there were the more dangerous ones – those who tried to escape, or who attacked templars or even their fellow mages. And, of course, blood mages. There were always whispers about blood magic.

Sometimes, it was just silliness – like the group of younger female apprentices who had approached him yesterday. They’d giggled behind their hands as they asked him his name, only to be hustled away by a disapproving Wynne.

But mostly, the mages turned away from the templars and their gaze.

“So,” asked Mara. “It’s Cullen, isn’t it?”

His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly realising how close to him she was standing.

A bit befuddled, he replied, “Y-yes. Cullen Rutherford.” He quickly glanced about, checking who else was present. There were no other templars here at this quiet time, just a handful of apprentices further down the library who were paying them no attention.

Mara scrutinised him from head to toe and right back up again. “You’re very handsome.” Her tone was bland and matter of fact, like she observing something as mundane as the weather.

Cullen reached up to rub the back of his neck. He could feel his cheeks burning. “Oh! Um, thank you?” His mind was a blank. He had no idea what to say to her. He couldn’t exactly tell her he thought she was beautiful. That would hardly be appropriate.

“Wasted as a templar, really,” she said, drawing his attention to her lips with a smirk. Mara’s eyes were dancing, and Cullen couldn’t figure out if she was making fun of him or not. Every single bit of training that detailed how to deal with mages went flying from his mind.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth.

“Although I’m sure all that training left you with a great body, at least.” Mara stepped forward, even closer to him, and placed her hand on his chest. It was covered with plate armour, of course, so he couldn’t actually feel it. Still, in surprise, he stepped backwards, only taking half a step before smacking into the wall, his armour clanging loudly. Once again he looked around, wildly, hoping he wasn’t drawing attention to himself.

A few of the mages _had_ glanced up, but upon seeing Mara had quickly looked away again, clearly not wanting to get involved.

To his relief, she dropped her hand, but the smirk stayed in place.

“That’s… that’s inappropriate,” Cullen muttered.

Mara laughed – a half amused, half incredulous laugh. “Maker’s breath! If you think that’s inappropriate, I can’t imagine what you’d be like out of your clothes.”

Cullen was somewhat scandalised – and getting increasingly worried about how this was escalating. His training had never prepared him for a mage to speak to him like _this_. “Y-you shouldn’t be thinking of me out… o-out of my clothes.” He gulped, hating how much of a fool he sounded.

Her smirk morphed into a lascivious grin. “Oh but I will. Tonight.” The hand that had touched him was now caressing herself, running up over her stomach, between her breasts and stroking the soft looking skin of her throat. “When I’m alone, in bed.” Cullen’s eyes followed the movement unblinkingly, and he took in a ragged breath. He was very painfully aware that he was getting hard, and he felt rooted to the spot, tongue-tied, unable to do anything.

An absolute fool.

Mara’s hand skimmed back down, this time over one of her breasts, before coming to a stop on her lower stomach just above.. her…

His brain fizzled, all of his blood rushing south, as his mind conjured up images of what she’d look like, in bed, alone, with no clothes on, touching herself, those pink, pouty lips opening wide in pleasure...

A loud thud and the hissing of an epitaph near them startled him so much that he jumped. Suddenly the sights and sounds of the library he was standing in came rushing back into focus, and Cullen was left only with a feeling of shame. Wide-eyed, he glanced around. An apprentice had dropped a heavy tome on their foot. No one was paying them any attention. He looked back at Mara, who was frowning in the direction of the noise.

Needing to not be standing so close to her, he made an awkward side-step, edging away. She turned back to him, her face brightening in amusement as she watched him.

“You should not… speak like that,” he said weakly, slowly putting distance between them. “I would not… I will not l-listen to such… such inappropriateness.”

Mara had not moved at all, she only watched him and smiled like a cat who got the cream. Cullen decided to make an escape, hoping she would not follow. Turning, he marched right out of the library with as much dignity as he could muster, only glancing back when he was safely in the hallway.

He paused.

She did not follow.

Cullen meandered aimlessly through the halls, trying to get his scattered thoughts and racing heart under control.

He couldn’t quite believe that had just happened.

And he knew he probably could not have handled that worse if he’d tried.


	7. Chapter 7 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

“Cullen. _Cullen_!”

He wrenched upright, still in the nightmare, instinctively pushing away the body looming over him and reaching for his sword. It wasn’t where it should be, the _demons had unarmed him_ –

“Cullen!” The voice was louder and sharper. “Wake up! It’s not real.”

He froze, and then his head began to clear. His room was shadowy, but enough light came in from the hole in ceiling to see. Everything came into focus. He was on the floor, Mara had been in the bed. Now he could see her on the ground, slumped against it.

She had been in his nightmare. There had been a demon. Dead bodies. His friends and colleagues. Blood everywhere.

He probably shouldn’t be surprised he’d had such a vivid nightmare; this was the inevitable consequence of his decisions tonight.

Cullen pressed his hands to his head. The headache was already coming on, hitting him like a battering ram, over and over. His throat was parched, his stomach rolled, and his mind – no, his entire body – screamed for lyrium. “Did I hurt you?” His voice was muffled and rough.

“It’s fine.” He heard her stand up, and raised his head from his hands with some difficulty to watch her. She stood, looking uncertain – an expression he’d never seen on her face before.

“I’m sorry.” He truly was. It had been foolish for him to have her here like this, in his room. He’d told himself he’d slept on the floor in case she needed him – but why would she need him? She’d been cold and tired, but not dangerously so. All he’d been doing by was torturing himself, selfishly wanting… something. To be close to her? He didn’t even know. He probably should have woken her and sent her back to her own room.

Mara shook her head. “It’s fine,” she said again. “You were thrashing and mumbling. I wasn’t sure whether to wake you but…” She hesitated before continuing. “You sounded like you were in pain, and you said my name.”

Cullen stood up, feeling incredibly vulnerable. But standing so suddenly was a bad idea. The headache increased tenfold, and he staggered, bracing himself against the wall and pressing the palm of his hand into his forehead.

“Please…”, he spoke with difficulty, the pounding in his head becoming unbearable. “Forget you heard… that.” He felt like his skull was going to break. With great effort, he raised his eyes to look at her, not wanting her to see him like this, needing to get her to leave.

Even through his pain, he could see the shift in her expression. She’d gotten over her shock, and was now regarding him in a calculating way. Now _that_ expression was one he remembered.

“I can help you with the pain,” her tone gave nothing away and he was shaking his head before she’d even stopped speaking. That, of course, only made the pain worse, and he slumped lower against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

The touch of her hand on him shocked him. His eyes snapped open, and he watched her tug on his arm as if in slow motion. This time, there was only the thin layer of his undershirt separating their skin. He could feel her warmth seep into him.

He immediately wanted more of it.

“Cullen. Lie down.” Impatience coloured Mara’s tone. But it did sound like a good idea, so Cullen allowed her to lead him to the bed. Once he collapsed onto it, Mara pulled the covers up over him.

He hadn’t even realised he’d been shivering.

He closed his eyes again, the relief of lying down only helping minutely. “Leave,” he muttered with difficulty.

Mara sighed. “Let me help the pain.”

“No!” He snapped, placing the heels of both hands into his eyes. Why wouldn’t she just _go_? 

“Don’t be foolish,” she snarled in return. “My magic can help you.”

“Don’t want… your… magic.” Cullen turned away from her, lying on his side, still keeping his hands pressed against his eyes.

“Stop acting like a child!” Her voice probably wasn’t that loud, but to Cullen it felt like she’d just bellowed in his ear, and he cringed. She tugged on his shoulder, and in too much pain to put up a fight, Cullen rolled onto his back. She pulled both arms away from his face and he squinted up at her as she stood over him.

For a split second, panic rose in him – he was too vulnerable, this was too like a nightmare, he had to wake up –but even through the haze of pain, he was very aware of her long, wild hair. It was brushing against his hands and arms as she leaned over him. The sensation was grounding and… surprisingly pleasant. Her hands were holding lightly onto his forearms – not even tightly, never mind bruising. He could easily pull his arms away even in his current condition. She wasn’t restraining him.

She was so very warm and Cullen, despite everything, was suddenly hungry for more of her touch. He wished there was no fabric between their skin. This contact, light at it was – it was nothing like a nightmare.

And her face… even in the nicer dreams, she’d never looked at him like this. There was concern in her eyes. She was exasperated with him, yes, but not really angry. Sometimes, in his terrors, her beauty was hard and cold – a stunning and ethereal creature that could command men to drop at her feet and worship her. This woman, the actual woman in front of him, was scarred but soft, still beautiful, a contradiction, and very human.

“I don’t care what you think of me or my magic,” Her voice had lowered and took on a slightly pleading note, “I can go and make you something for the pain and a sleeping draught, but it will take a while. My magic can help you now.”

His eyes fluttered shut and he struggled to think. The idea of immediate relief was welcome but the idea of magic…

Mara continued. “Just think of it as something – a tool – to allow you to perform your duties.”

Knowingly or not, she’d hit the one argument that had a small chance of working on him. But it wasn’t enough. He suffered through plenty of these with no magic to relieve him, and he’d get through this one too.

“ _Please_ , Cullen. I can’t bear to see you like this.” She whispered it so low, Cullen couldn’t be certain if he’d heard her right. “I won’t do it if you don’t want it, and I know I have no right to ask, but will you trust me?”

He could not.

He could not trust her, as much as he wanted to. He could not trust magic, even benign healing magic.

“No magic,” he muttered, and was immediately left bereft when she drew away, taking her pleasant warmth away. “Potion.”

“Fine,” she snapped in return, letting go of his arms which dropped to his sides. “Be stubborn.”

Cullen listened to her move about the room and then climb down the stairs. He didn’t move or open his eyes. The slightest movement only aggravated the pain, so he simply lay still and tried to breathe through it all, only a small part of him slightly regretful he hadn’t taken the option of the immediate relief her magic would have given him.

Time was impossible to measure, and it could have been minutes or hours before he heard her return, calling softly up to him to let him know who it was.

As soon as she climbed back up the stairs, she spoke briskly but quietly. “I have a potion and a poultice that will help the pain. I also have a sleeping draught but it will knock you for several hours.”

He heard her approach the bed and sit beside him

“Is it mostly your head?” she softly asked, and he muttered a reply in the affirmative. Any other pain he had was negligible compared to the headache.

Cullen could feel her leaning over him again. “Can you sit up?”

With difficultly he did so, allowing her to help him, her hand on his back, her touch so very welcome. He swallowed down the foul tasting potion she offered him, and then lay back down.

The warm poultice she pressed to his forehead was like a magic of its own. It smelled pleasant, but not overpowering. The heat was soothing, seeping into his skull, and the pain began to lessen. He could feel his face, which had been scrunched up in pain, begin to smooth, and he was able to close his eyes with ease, instead of scrunching them up against the pain.

In everything she was doing, Mara was gentle.

“Would you like the sleeping draught?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“No,” he murmured. This was enough. The pain was not completely gone, but it was receding to manageable levels. What’s more, Mara’s free hand was touching the side of his face. Was it hope or delusion that made him think she was being tender?

Minutes dragged by, only the quiet sounds of their breathing in the room, or the soft scratch as Mara shifted the poultice. She was, thought Cullen, good at this, and he pictured her in the infirmaries down in the valley which housed their army, healing and taking care of people. It was a surprising way to think of her – he’d never expected it from her.

But what did he even know about this woman anymore, anyway?

Soon, he was unable to resist the lull of sleep, and just before he drifted way, he swore he felt her fingers caressing his cheek again, and that he felt her thumb resting on the scar above his lip for just a beat before the warm, welcoming touch was gone, and he drifted into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

\---

When Cullen awoke, it was late morning. He _never_ slept this late. He could hear people in his office below, wondering where he was and a hushed debate about if one of them should climb up the steps to check on him and everyone refusing to be the one to do it.

Mara was gone, but he wasn’t surprised by that. There was no evidence she had ever been here, and even the potions and poultice had been removed.

What he was surprised by was how refreshed he felt, despite the fact that the headache still lingered, and the rest of his body ached. But this pain was manageable, a low level he was used to and nothing like the crippling, nauseating grip of agony he had been in the night before. 

Aware he had another exceptionally busy day ahead, Cullen knew he wouldn’t have time right now to think about Mara and what had happened last night. Later, he would process what had happened.

He had a lot to think about.


	8. Chapter 8 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Due to his late start, Cullen had a late lunch. Or early dinner. He had only just begun eating in the hall when Leliana appeared, as if from nowhere, and sat down in front of him.

Cullen ignored her, waiting for her to say whatever she had to say. He was hungry and had hoped this short break would give him a chance to get his thoughts in order about Mara. 

“Commander,” she asked lightly but quietly. “Do you have any idea why Mara is trying to secure a horse and leave Skyhold?” 

He froze, mid-chew. His only thought was that _she couldn’t leave._

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact she spent the night with you, would it?” Leliana’s voice had lowered more, and now there was steel in her tone. 

Cullen swallowed carefully. He didn’t even ask how Leliana knew, because that would be pointless. “No,” he choked out. “It shouldn’t. We – nothing happened. We barely even spoke.” 

“Hm.” Leliana leaned back. “Tell me everything.”

Cullen’s already thin patience broke. “No,” he snapped. “It’s none of your business, Leliana. Ask her if you want to know.”

“I did,” and now there was something of a playful note in her voice, completely at odds to how she’d sounded a moment ago. “She told me the exact same thing as you. In the exact same tone of voice, I might add. It reminded me of the Mara I used to know, I was quite delighted.”

He said nothing, too pre-occupied with the news that she was leaving.

“Cullen, I will ask just one more question. Do you want her to leave?” 

“No.” The answer was out before he could even think about it. Whatever confusing feelings he had about her, he didn’t want her to leave his life again, not yet. They had barely even spoken. He had to speak to her. He had to at least try and make amends. 

Leliana nodded, satisfied. “I cannot keep her here, whether we grant her a horse or not – she did arrive on foot, after all. And I do not know what she is running from. Perhaps you can find out?” Leliana cocked an eyebrow at him, as if issuing a challenge and then stood and left, as quietly and quickly as she’d appeared. 

Cullen brooded as he shovelled the rest of his meal into his mouth quickly, barely tasting it. His mind returned to the previous night, to Mara’s fingers softly caressing his face. He wished he’d been able to open his eyes as she was doing it, and to have seen what expression she wore. 

What that thought in his mind, he abruptly stood, and left the hall in haste, gathering some curious looks as he did so. He quickly made his way to the stables, hoping he could still find her there, pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone he passed. Woe betide anyone who tried to stop him right now.

He slowed as he approached the stables, relieved beyond measure when he spotted Mara immediately. She stood facing the stables, with her back to him. She was wearing her travelling clothes and had her backpack and staff by her side. 

So, she was planning on leaving. He didn’t know how to get her stay, or if he even had any right to ask that of her. But Cullen realised he couldn’t just leave things like this.

Mara was talking to Warden Blackwall. Her arms were crossed and her shoulders looked tense. Cullen hung back, waiting for them to finish their conversation. It didn’t take long, and Blackwall made his departure with a little bow towards Mara.

When he spotted Cullen, Blackwall greeted him, which caused Mara to spin around, searching. When their eyes met, she quickly looked away, focusing on the retreating figure of Blackwall as Cullen approached her. 

She shot him another quick glance, looking irritated, her lips pursed. Then she said, “What an absolutely insufferable man.” 

Cullen’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “I... beg your pardon?” 

Was she talking about him or Blackwall? 

She waved a hand dismissively, nodding in Blackwall’s direction. “That Warden. All ‘ _your ladyship is even more dazzling than the rumours say’_ and _‘I’m sure your ladyship is as deadly as she is beautiful’._ Ridiculous. For Maker’s sake, I thought he was going to try kiss my hand for a moment.” She sneered. “Some Warden he is. I don’t think he could even tell I’ve been cured of the taint.” 

Cullen had gathered himself during her rant – the most she’d spoken to him since she’d arrived. Now _this_ was more the Mara he had known. It was odd to find comfort in someone being so caustic.

“Warden Blackwall has been a great help to the Inquisition,” Cullen said mildly. He would not admit to being slightly amused by what she’d said, because he did have great respect for Blackwall and felt Mara was being a little unkind. Although he did file away the information she’d just given him about the taint for now – did that mean she hadn’t heard the false Calling like the other Wardens? “I hope you were at least polite to him?”

“ _Unfailingly_ ,” she snapped, and then turned towards Cullen, her face lighting up with a fake smile and her voice taking on a bright tone. “Oh no, Warden Blackwall, the honour is truly all _mine_. I thank you _so_ much for your service to the Order. No, please don’t kneel and kiss my boots, it is _entirely_ unnecessary, but thank you so much for offering.” The smile dropped and she rolled her eyes. 

Cullen couldn’t stop the short laugh from escaping him this time, despite himself. As much as he needed to talk to her about the important issue of her leaving, he didn’t want to let this moment of ease with her go just yet. 

“With diplomacy skills such as that,” he said neutrally, “I can’t help but be amazed that you managed to stop the Blight at all.”  

“It helps that it happened in Ferelden and not Orlais. Shouting until people do what you want works better in Ferelden, especially when you have a big mabari.” She paused. “And a golem.” Another pause. “And a qunari.” 

“It sounds like you had quite the, ah, motley herd.” He’d heard stories of course – everyone had – of the Hero of Ferelden and those who had accompanied her in her journey to end the Blight.  

Her face softened with a wistful smile. “I did.” 

Encouraged, Cullen continued. “I must admit, it would have been interesting to have had you at the Winter Palace, although you might possibly have turned Josephine’s hair grey.”

Mara smirked. “Yes, I’m exactly what you do not want at peace talks in a country like Orlais, with their Great Game.” Her eyes slid over him. “I can’t imagine you at the Winter Palace. How’d you like the nobles?”

“They were… trying.” To make a very large understatement. That whole evening was one he’d much rather forget.

“I’m sure,” Mara murmured. The lightness of their conversation fled, and a heavy silence fell upon them, a stark contrast to the noise and bustle going on all around them. After a moment she continued hesitantly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m much better. I… thank you for your help. It was very… helpful.” Maker take him, why couldn’t he just speak to her like a normal person?

Truthfully, wanted to say more but he felt uncomfortable and exposed. She had not seen him at his worst last night, but it had been too close. It made him nervous, and having this conversation in the open of Skyhold’s busy courtyard wasn’t helping. He had also not forgotten his reason for coming out here. “Mara,” he began, relishing saying her name, “why are you leaving?”

She shrugged, her expression at once shutting down. Her gaze turned away from him. “Why would I stay?” 

Cullen stepped in front of her, willing her to look up at him. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Exasperated, she met his eyes. “Don’t answer my question with a question.”

“You started it.” Cullen knew he was being childish but he didn’t know how else to deal with this stubborn woman.

With a scoff, Mara picked up her backpack, steadied her staff, and stalked away from him and towards the stable master. 

Cullen called after her. “Why are you running away, Mara?” 

She turned back to him. Her eyes were blazing, but there was more to it than just anger, that was clear to see. He stepped closer to her.

“I would never have taken you for a coward.” 

“I am not a coward,” she hissed at him. “ _You’re_ the one who used to run away from _me_.” 

Cullen stalked towards her. When he spoke he kept his voice low, very aware of the interested glances they were getting, including the Stablemaster, who was peering at them with unabashed curiosity. “Yes, ten years ago. I’m not running now, am I? _I’m asking you to stay_.” 

Her face twisted, and he couldn’t figure out if it was in uncertainty or anger. So he pressed on. “At least for a little longer… unless, that is, you have somewhere you need to be?”

Her head dropped forward. “Denerim.” 

“Oh. I see.” Disappointment filled him. “Do you have to go immediately?”

Mara fidgeted, shuffling her feet. “No,” she said softly. “I do have to go, soon, but I suppose it doesn’t have to be today.”

Cullen was surprised she admitted that, but then he thought about it. Mara was many things, but to Cullen’s knowledge, she had never been a liar. “So will you stay? Even for a while?”

“I’ll stay,” she whispered. “Just… for now.” 

“Good,” Cullen replied, finally feeling able to relax since Leliana had interrupted his lunch. “Ah... Leliana will be pleased.”

At that, Mara raised her head and met his gaze, some of her confidence returning. “Oh, _Leliana_ will be pleased? No one else, I’m sure.” Was there a hint of bitterness in there, Cullen wondered, or was he reading far too much into it? 

But he decided he wasn’t going to play coy. Cullen was well beyond such games, though he could feel his cheeks burning as he spoke. He could only hope he wasn’t actually blushing that much. “I’m also pleased that you’re staying, Mara.” Surprise took over her features, though whether it was at his sentiment or the bluntness of it, he wasn’t sure. “But we need to talk.” 

Mara grimaced. “Talking is overrated.” 

“I find it depends on who you’re talking to.”

“Oh?” She cocked her eyebrow and her mouth gave that curl he remembered well, and he just knew she was going to say something suggestive or outright rude. “Are you telling me you’re a cunning linguist, Cullen?” 

He shook his head at her, amused and still somehow surprised despite everything. “I… I can’t believe you just said that.”  

“You’re not denying it. Interesting.” 

Cullen raised his eyes to the sky, not ready to handle this sharp turn in the conversation. “Maker’s breath. Stop distracting me. I have to get back to work, but… we’ll talk?” 

Mara grew serious and nodded. “I’ll find you.” At his look of askance, she continued, “I promise. Soon.”  

It was the best he could have hoped for, and he decided to take her at her word. “Good. I’ll… I’ll take my leave of you.” With one final look between them, Cullen turned back in the direction of his tower, where he would no doubt find endless reports and messengers and disasters requiring his attention. 

For his whole walk across the courtyard, he could feel her gaze burning into him.


	9. Chapter 9 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

Cullen was never able to figure out Mara’s angle.

He watched her, far more than he watched any other mage. It was not from fear of her becoming an abomination, he simply couldn’t drag his eyes away. She captivated him, like she had someone imprinted herself on him. It wasn’t something he could understand – yes, she was beautiful, but it wasn’t just that. He couldn’t even say he liked the forward way she’d approached him before but he also couldn’t stop thinking about it.  

And he knew that she also watched him. Although, while Cullen tried to be discreet, Mara was far more blatant about it. She didn't seem to care if anyone noticed. Days passed, but she did not directly approach him again. Instead, she would smile at him from a distance, that seductive smile that played out in the very inappropriate thoughts he tried to push away. 

He took to spending more time in the Chantry, hoping prayer would help.

Cullen couldn’t understand his reaction to her. He’d never felt such a physical attraction to any woman before – even the one he’d lost his virginity to last summer. She had been very pretty, tanned from working the fields of her family’s farm, with bright yellow hair as smooth as silk. Cullen had thought that their few times together had been passion but now, he wasn’t so sure. 

Carefully, he asked other templars about Mara, only to get reactions similar to his first day: she was talented, too talented, they said – meaning that she was dangerous. They told him she seemed to enjoy getting reactions out of templars so he should keep his guard up around her, and that she had a bit of a reputation even among the mages. But Cullen seemed to be the only templar she’d ever been quite so… blatant with. 

Deciding to keep their encounter to himself, Cullen tried to pretend like everything was normal.

He told himself he only watched her as a templar should watch a mage under their charge. 

He already knew he was lying to himself.

It was about a week later that she spoke to him again. Cullen watched her approach him slowly. Nerves curled in his stomach, and he could have walked away, he knew. She made her intent clear, her eyes on his, and he wondered if she was giving him an out, with time to escape.

Regardless, he didn’t take it. He tensed up, ready to bolt. But he didn’t move.

Mara smiled at him and stood too close – she smelled of something floral and enticing – but didn’t touch him. She wished him a good morning and asked him questions – appropriate ones even if they were a bit more personal than the templars were supposed to get with their charges. She asked him where he grew up, and what his family was like. Innocent questions, really. Cullen still couldn’t decipher the gleam in her eyes. He also couldn’t figure out _why_ she was asking him these question, but he still stumbled out answers, unable to look away, wondering just what he was doing encouraging this behaviour. But still not stopping it.

“How do you like being a templar?” Mara’s expression changed slightly into something more challenging.

Cullen wasn’t even sure how he’d answered because he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. But clearly he’d said something because her smile had widened and she’d stepped closer, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you like watching mages?”

Feeling off balance again with such a loaded question, he stuttered. “It’s… it’s part of my job.” 

“Hmmm,” she replied. “And do you like watching me?”

“Apprentice!” A stern voice behind her caused Cullen to jump. Mara merely stepped back with a roll of her eyes and an exaggerated pout and turned towards the voice. It was the Knight-Commander, and Cullen’s blood ran cold, trepidation seeping into him. It was probably completely obvious how much he was messing up, and now he was going to pay for it.

Knight-Commander Greagoir glowered at Mara. “I’ve warned you before – you are playing with fire, girl.” 

She smiled sweetly at him. “But Knight-Commander, playing with fire is the whole reason I’m in here in the first place.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. Whatever about speaking to someone like Cullen – a junior templar – with disrespect, the idea of anyone doing it to the Knight-Commander was incomprehensible to him. 

Greagoir narrowed his eyes. “Watch your tongue, Amell, or you’ll end up in solitary confinement again, and this time it’ll be for a week.” Her expression hardened in return, and Cullen tried very hard to keep his emotions off his face. He thought solitary confinement was only used for escapees and particularly bad behaviour. The thought of Mara being isolated like that made him feel unsettled. “Now get back to your studies.” 

With a sidelong glance at Cullen, Mara took off. Once she was out of sight, Greagoir turned his frowning face towards Cullen. 

“She’s a handful, that one,” he said. “Don’t let her see a hint of weakness, she’s as bad as a mabari who’s scented blood.” 

“Y-yes, Ser.” Cullen decided not to say that he was pretty sure Mara already knew exactly how weak he was. “Um, Knight-Commander? May I ask a question?”

Greagoir nodded.

“I didn’t think we usually put apprentices in solitary confinement?”

For a moment Greagoir did not answer the clumsily phrased question. Then he said, “Come with me, Cullen.” Without waiting for a response, Greagoir strode away and Cullen hastened to follow him. He was sweating profusely, wondering if he was about to get in serious trouble. 

He’d barely been a templar for a month! Had he messed up everything already, so soon after all his training?

It didn’t take long to reach their destination – Greagoir’s office. The Knight-Commander ushered Cullen in and closed the door. 

“I’m going to tell you this because it appears Amell has taken a fancy to you, and you’ll have to learn to deal with her. You are correct – we don’t usually put apprentices like her in solitary. It is a harsh punishment, and I prefer to use it only when absolutely necessary – escapees, unruly apostates, you know.”

Greagoir walked to his desk, which was stacked with paper. On it, there was also a box, which he now picked up and opened. 

“I put Amell in solitary for a day not long before you arrived. I’d hoped it would teach her a lesson – it did, although it appears to only have been a temporary one.” He eyed Cullen. “Since you arrived, she’s been acting out once more. But in truth, I don’t want to have to do it again.”

Greagoir sighed. “She was always mischievous – causing blizzards in the privy, sending electric shocks to someone whenever they touched a door handle – that kind of juvenile behaviour. Punishments never seemed to stop her. It’s only as she’s gotten older that she began being disrespectful and inappropriate with templars.”

“Surely she’s been punished for that, too?” asked Cullen. 

“Of course. But she’s the First Enchanter’s favourite, and she knows it. What she doesn’t know is that he’s protected her from more serious repercussions. Irving was furious when he found out I’d put her in solitary, but it was sewing discontent among my templars to see a mage act so disrespectfully and get away with it. I feared someone would take it upon themselves to punish her in a different way.” The dark tone in Greagoir’s voice made Cullen shiver. “And she’s too clever by half – she has impeccable control of her magic and always stops short of crossing a line she can’t step back from. She’s no fool, she doesn’t want to be made Tranquil.” Once again Greagoir looked at Cullen intensely. “She’s also good at picking who to provoke.”

Cullen tried not to cringe into his amour, knowing his own failings.

Greagoir lifted a small vial from the box. “This is her phylactery. I have put off her Harrowing in the hope she would calm down, but I believe it may have made things worse. She needs to learn responsibility. It is time. I will make arrangements with the First Enchanter and you, Cullen, will be present.”

Cullen lifted his eyes from the vial of blood to meet Greagoir’s serious gaze. He mouth was dry. “If she fails her Harrowing, it will be your responsibility to strike her down.”


	10. Chapter 10 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen returned to his office late that evening. It had been a busy day, with preparation for the Inquisitor’s departure the following day. After a late dinner, Cullen spent some time in the Chantry, reflecting and praying, before deciding to retire.

He had not expected to find Mara waiting for him. While he had trusted her to come to him when she was ready, he had not thought it would be so soon. But he was pleased she was here, and so soon. When he entered his office, she was leaning against his desk, watching him appreciatively as he stepped in and placed his reports on it.

Between her look and the loaded silence, she was making him nervous – it was reminding him too much of how she had been in the Circle. It was a marked change in attitude from when she’d been in his office a few days ago, and he wondered at the change. Or perhaps it was more a return to form. So he braced himself for a suggestive comment. 

It didn’t come. Cullen took his seat and gestured towards the other chair. “Please, sit.” 

Mara’s eyes flitted towards the chair and then back towards Cullen. He saw a hint of indecision flit across her face before she ignored the chair and moved around the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Mara.” He said her name warningly.

She smirked, and suddenly she moved forward to straddle him. It was so unexpected that Cullen froze and shut his eyes, and the pleasant weight and warmth of her body on his made him loath to move even when the initial shock wore off. 

He opened his eyes, fixing Mara with a glare. Her face was so damned close to his, and she grinned at him, draping her arms on his shoulders.

“What?” She asked innocently. “I’m sitting.” 

“This is _not_ what…” He fell silent as one of her hands moved to his face, tracing his cheek and his scar much like he was sure she had done last night. Her own lips fell open as her thumb came to rest on his lower lip. 

Her expression wasn’t quite as soft as it had been last night – this was lust, and Cullen had a sneaking suspicion it mirrored the expression on his own face. But this wasn’t what he wanted.

No. That wasn’t exactly true, was it? 

He just didn’t want it like _this_ , when everything was a mess between them. And although it was probably impossible that things would ever _not_ be a mess between them, he couldn’t in good conscience let this happen. 

Not yet, at least.

So when her face moved towards his, he took both her forearms in his gloved hands. “No.” He said, with great effort. His brain and his body were at war – as wrong as he knew this was, he craved her touch just as much as he craved lyrium.  

Mara froze, her face a kiss away, looking at him in disbelief. 

“We agreed to talk, Mara.”

“I don’t want to talk, and we’re no longer in a Circle,” she growled, “I want _you_ , Cullen.” 

His eyes closed again and he let out a shuddering breath. But he was relieved that although she didn’t get off his lap, she didn’t press herself any closer to him or try to kiss him again. He wasn’t sure his willpower could hold up much longer. 

“And I,” he said, once again with a lot of difficulty, “don’t want _this_.”

Cullen opened his eyes as she clambered off him, and he did not miss the pained look that flashed across her face before she turned her back on him, shoulders hunching up.

His hands gripped the arms of his chair tightly, willing his body back under control. He watched Mara, wondering what was going through her head.

He soon got his answer when she whirled around, clearly frustrated. “Why did you ask me to stay?”

He took a deep breath and relaxed his death grip on the chair. “I asked you stay because we need to talk – about last night and about ten years ago. It’s overdue, wouldn’t you say?” 

Her mouth turned downward. “That’s it?”

“Well. Yes.” He couldn’t decipher the tone of her voice.

“I see.” She looked away from him then, that same pained look crossing her face before she seemed to pull herself together before turning back, stoic again. “In that case, I’m sorry about… before. It won’t happen again.” 

Cullen didn’t know how to reply to that. Had she thought that was why he’d asked her to stay? For _sex_? He fumbled to reply, to make her feel better, to explain. “I… you–”

“It’s fine,” she said dismissively, finally sitting in the chair on the other side of his desk. It clearly wasn’t fine, but Cullen didn’t know how to navigate this. Perhaps there was nothing he _could_ say that would make it fine.

“Can we… can we talk about what just happened some other time? I think I need to – to digest.” 

Mara shrugged. When she spoke, it was with an indifference that Cullen now knew she was feigning. “So what do you actually want to talk about?” 

He took a deep breath. It was time to push all thoughts of her lips and the feel of her body out of his mind. For now. “I would like to apologise.”

“Apologise?” Mara was incredulous. “What for?”

“Firstly, for how I spoke to you when you first came to my office. It was unkind of me to treat you like that. I was… surprised to see you, and I didn’t handle it very well.” Mara’s eyebrow raised slightly, possibly in agreement, but she nodded, accepting his words.

Cullen took a deep breath. “And also, I want to apologise… for Kinloch. When Uldred… ,” Cullen spoke slowly. It was still difficult to talk about, but she knew what he was referring to so there was no need to elaborate. “I said some things that were unkind, even cruel. You did not deserve them, and I’m sorry.” 

Mara’s genuine shock would have been amusing in another situation. “Cullen that’s… not something you need to apologise for.”

He shook his head. “But I feel as though it is. You saved my life and I didn’t even thank you. I was so angry – and that anger was something I took with me to Kirkwall. You – you know what happened at Kirkwall?” At her small nod, he continued. “I let my anger consume me and I failed to protect so many. I had begun to view all mages with distrust, and to suspect them all of being maleficarum – I felt they were no longer worthy of my protection. ” He swallowed heavily, struggling to get the words out. “For a long time I was angry at you.”

The shock had left Mara’s eyes, and now she just looked sad. Resigned.

“I don’t know if I can explain it in a way that makes sense. But my feelings for you, and how the demons exploited it... it was my shame for so long. In truth, I blamed myself and my weakness, but I couldn’t accept it. You were a mage, and all mages were dangerous. I had allowed myself to be alone with you, and so I was compromised. My Knight-Commander in Kirkwall encouraged my anger and resentment. I’m not saying she is to blame for my own attitude and actions, but she fed my negative feelings when she should have been doing the opposite. She encouraged me to think that you were the reason for my failures, my anger, the demon at Kindloch. A mage I had let get under my skin and who I couldn’t forget.”

Mara sagged in the chair, a look of distress on her face. Whatever she had been expecting, it clearly hadn’t been _this_.

“I had no idea,” she whispered. 

“How could you?” he replied, bitterness in his voice – though directed at himself rather than her. “I never expected to see you again. It was… easy to be angry at you. Easier than realising the anger was with myself. And it was so very easy to be angry in a place like Kirkwall.” 

“How can you–” Mara’s voice cracked, and Cullen was taken aback at the pain in it. “How can you even look at me?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The words he’d expected to struggle with came easier than he’d thought. “I joined the Inquisition to atone for my past actions. In doing so, I also forsake lyrium. I am no longer a templar. I’ve been fortunate in my friends here who have helped me when it has been… difficult.” Cullen’s voice grew quiet. “I realised the errors of my ways – later than I should have, I admit. I could not remain in the Order, not what it had become. I could not continue to let anger and hate consume me. I could not continue to be angry at someone else for my own choices.” He looked up at her. “It was never you I was truly angry at.” His mouth twisted wryly. “I was just too stubborn to realise it sooner. So, I am sorry.”

Mara still looked upset. “Are you apologising to me or to all mages?”

“It’s both, really, isn’t it?” He sighed. 

Mara stood up so suddenly she nearly knocked her chair over. “I really should leave you alone. When I came here, I didn’t think, I just wanted–”

She halted suddenly and said no more. Cullen prodded her. “What did you want?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Now her chin raised defiantly. 

“It does matter. And I would rather you stay.” 

She shook her head again, crossing her arms. “I still don’t understand how you’ve just… gotten over it.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I think to say that I’m over it would be a very large exaggeration. It has not been easy. I still have frequent nightmares, as you saw. I… I struggle.” He decided not to dive into the ongoing effects of lyrium withdrawal. “But it is better, and I find that seeing you has made it even more so instead of worse.’

Mara opened her mouth but didn’t seem to be able to find any words. “I don’t know what to say.” 

He shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything, if that’s what you wish.” A feeling of uncertainty washed over him. “Perhaps I should not have told you…”

She shook her head, pacing the room. “No, I don’t mind that you did. It’s–” She gave a huff. “What happened at Kinloch was terrible. I did often wonder how you were afterwards, and then Kirkwall.” She halted her pacing and stared at him, still with that sad expression. “You truly have seen the worst in mages.” 

Cullen said nothing, because she was right. But then, the mages in Kirkwall could easily say they had seen the worst in Templars. 

“I probably shouldn’t have tried to forced my magic on you last night,” she murmured.

“You didn’t force me – you asked and I said no, and you respected that when there was nothing stopping you from using magic if you wanted. So I… thank you, for that. You helped.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “Does it bother you to be alone with me?” 

He leaned forward, keeping his gaze on her steady. He considered the question for a moment before answering honestly. “Yes, but not in a bad way, and not because you’re a mage.” 

This time, Mara had no reply and just stared at him – brows furrowed like she was trying to figure him out. Cullen decided to move on, glad he had told her and knowing that, at some point, they’d have to return to the topic. But now, he wanted answers and he wasn’t going to let her deflect any longer. 

“Well, since I have bared my soul to you, you could return the favour and tell me why you came to Skyhold?” 

Once again she shook her head at him, obviously not wanting to move on from the topic yet. “And the lyrium… you no longer take it? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Cullen swallowed, suddenly thirsty. “Yes, but it is better than the alternative.” 

Mara fell silent, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she frowned. He wanted to smooth it away. She stared at him, obviously thinking about what he’d said. 

“Are you–”

“Mara,” he interrupted gently, and she fell silent, eyebrows raised. “Are you trying to avoid answering my question?” 

“I should go, Cullen,” she said wearily, and he sighed.

“I meant what I said, Mara. I’m not angry at you – I was never really angry at you. It’s–”

Now it was her turn to interrupt him. “But you’re still angry at mages?”

He paused before answering. His feelings towards mages as a whole were more complicated. “I am still angry at mages like Uldred, and like the ones in Kirkwall who turned to blood magic, yes.” He waited for a response, but she was again silent, dark eyes still fixed on him like he was a puzzle. “We can talk about this another time, if you wish, but would you please answer some of my questions now?” He was annoyed at the pleading note in his voice, but he still half expected her to walk out the door. 

She tossed her head to the side, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug.

“Why are you here, Mara?” He asked her, again.

She kept her gaze diverted away, but to his relief, she finally sat back down. As her fingers fiddled with the material on the arm of the chair, Cullen realised with some surprise that she was nervous. 

Mara took a deep breath.

“Will you – will you listen?” 


	11. Chapter 11 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen raised his eyebrows in surprise at her request: _Will you listen?_ As if it was ever in doubt.

“Of course. I would not have asked otherwise.”

A flicker crossed her face, and her tongue snaked out to wet her lips as she met his eyes. It was an unconscious action, clearly not done to attract attention, which made it somehow even more enticing to Cullen. But when she started speaking, he stuck by his word, and listened to every one of hers.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

He blinked at the simple statement. “That’s it?” 

Mara crossed both her arms and legs and leaned back in the chair, looking away from him again, a defensive look on her face. “Leliana is here. In the letter she wrote to me she mentioned that Morrigan is also here, at least for now. I knew that you were here. I knew that Hawke had been here.” She paused and looked back at Cullen. “You know, we’re cousins – second cousins, I believe – although I’ve never met any of them.” Her voice faded and grew wistful. “But then, I’ve never met some of my siblings, either.”

“Your siblings?” Cullen hadn’t wanted to interrupt her, but he hadn’t expected her to talk about her family.  He remembered Hawke mentioning the family connection many years ago. It was a shame they’d never had a chance to meet. And he couldn’t help his curiosity. Mara had always been a mystery to him in many ways and she’d never spoken about herself like this before.

“I have a sister and three brothers. At least I did. I don’t know if they still live. Of course, I didn’t find out about them until after I became Warden Commander and did some searching.”

“You never contacted them?”

“They’re all mages, too.” Cullen started, realising immediately that all five would have been sent to different Circles. “I managed to contact one of my brothers who was in the Circle at Ostwick, but I only ever received one letter from him. I was probably lucky to get that much. Elijah is his name. He told me about the others, what little he could.” Her hands clenched into fists. “I have no idea if any of them survived the uprising.”

She fell silent, seemingly lost in thought. When she spoke again, Cullen could tell she was far away. “I’m a twin,” she said softly. “Elijah is my twin brother. Then there’s Oren, who is two years younger than us. Alexander was just a baby when I was taken by the templars. And Elijah told me that my mother had Leah afterwards. Our sister. She’s the youngest.” Mara said all their names so wistfully, it made Cullen ache for her, and also feel guilty at his own subpar communication with his own family. 

“Sometimes I think I remember Elijah, but I’m not sure if I just… wish I remembered. The only sure thing I remember is when the templars came. They were… terrifying. Covered in metal, and huge. I was only five. My mother was crying on the street for them to give me back. I don’t really remember what she looked like except my hair is the same colour as hers. She had really long hair. And I remember what she sounded like as she begged the templars.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I remember wondering why no one would help and why everyone looked away.”

Cullen was horrified. He should not have been, of course. Her story wasn’t particularly unusual. And yet he was horrified. No child should have to go through that. No mother should have her children ripped away from her. Her _five_ children.

“That is…”

“A charming childhood story, I know.” Mara attempt at sarcasm fell flat, and he could see, even now, how much this affected her. Her eyes lowered and she picked absently at the sleeve of her tunic. Cullen got the impression she was embarrassed by having revealed so much about herself. 

“So you were looking for something familiar?” He almost wanted to ask if she was looking for a family, but that felt too personal.

Mara frowned. “I used to be very driven.” She spoke slowly, clearly trying to sort through her thoughts before she spoke. “At the Circle, my goal was to successfully complete my Harrowing and be the best apprentice. And I was successful at both of those.” She shrugged, a touch of that arrogance she’d had back at the Circle reappearing. 

“And then I became a Warden, right after my Harrowing. There was a Blight, it was obvious what needed to be done. We stopped it. After that, the Wardens were granted Amaranthine and I was made Arlessa but it required so much diplomacy I wanted to burn the place down sometimes. Honestly,” she sounded exasperated, “I don’t understand why some people find it so difficult to not be terrible to each other. And then others – I don’t know how they manage to put on their own trousers in the morning. At least when I had to go to the Deep Roads I could burn the darkspawn down and not have to talk to them.” She hesitated. “Mostly.” 

Mara seemed to realise she was ranting, and winced at him in apology, clearly not realising how interested Cullen was in everything she said. “Anyway, I think I made a good Arlessa. I left Amaranthine and the Keep in good shape.” She scowled. “For all the good it did, considering the Wardens abandoned it.” 

“And then?” Cullen was engrossed in her words.

“Some years ago, Morrigan… she… she gave me something. It began my research into curing the Calling that all Wardens experience.”

Cullen nodded. “And you were successful?”

“Eventually. It took a long time. What Morrigan gave me was the first piece of a puzzle. It took up my entire focus. I left the Wardens – I know some say I abandoned them, but they should have been fine without me. I didn’t expect Corypheus, or the terrible decisions made by the Wardens in their fear.

“I poured everything into my research. I travelled far west, to lands that had never seen a Blight.” She shook her head. “I knew what I was doing would either cure me or kill me, and at some point I became unconcerned about the danger. I’d come this far and I was – I was tired. So I took the cure almost on a whim and I thought I was going to die. I’d left a lot of notes for whoever would find my body, hoping they’d be able to expand on my knowledge. But I didn’t die. I woke up and I could feel the difference and I knew I’d somehow done it. Although I was so sick afterwards I thought I might still die.”

Quiet took over the room. Cullen was angry. “Why do you have so little regard for your life?”

Mara raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, before leaning back in the chair and staring up at the ceiling. “I should have died when I killed the archdemon.” 

“No you shouldn’t have,” he snapped forcibly. “Why would you say that?” 

She scoffed, but otherwise ignored that he’d spoken. “So, I’d cured my Calling. And yet I had nothing. I had no home to go to, no family I could find, no… nothing. What was the point? In all my efforts working towards a cure, I hadn’t considered what would happen after or why I was even doing it. I never do. I finish a goal and I make the next one. I thought coming to Skyhold would help but it just made everything worse, because I came here thinking that just my being here was a solution to something. When it’s not. It’s not anything.” 

“It doesn’t have to be like that. You have many skills that are needed here.”

“Needed, maybe. Never wanted.” 

The bitterness in her voice dismayed Cullen. “You–”

“Anyway,” she said, interrupting him. “I do actually need to go to Denerim soon. I wasn’t lying about that. It’s only fair that I tell Alistair about the cure and it’s complicated and dangerous. I don’t want to risk something going wrong and the king of Ferelden dying because some idiot misread my notes – and by ‘some idiot’ I mean Alistair himself.”

Cullen knew she was trying to change the subject, but decided not to push her for now. He was slightly taken aback at how she spoke about the king, but he supposed she knew him well. “I think many forget that King Alistair was once a Grey Warden.”

“Yes, well. Hardly surprising. What a wonderful Warden he was, leaving the Order right before the battle against the archdemon.” There was real anger in her voice now, and her hands clenched into fists.

“Why did he do that?”

Mara made an exasperated sound. “Because I conscripted Loghain into the Grey Wardens. Alistair threw a giant petulant fit about it – because of Loghain’s actions at Ostagar and afterwards – and left. Said he’d become king, just so he could have Loghain executed. It was – Maker, I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry. I hated Loghain too, for what he’d done. But he was also a great warrior and a general and there were three – three! – Wardens in Ferelden at the time and we were on the eve of the battle to kill the archdeacon _to stop a Blight_. There were darkspawn everywhere! We desperately needed Wardens but Alistair couldn’t look at the bigger picture. He could have killed Loghain after the battle for all I cared at the time.” She shook her head. “You know, there was no love lost between Loghain and me, but in the end he was a good Warden. I heard of his death at Adamant. What a waste.”

She pulled herself upright again, meeting Cullen’s eye. “Alistair and I were friends, but he threw it all away because he couldn’t accept Loghain as a Warden.” She rolled her eyes. “He said it was an insult to the Order. The Order that conscripts killers and rapists. To say we parted on bad terms is an understatement, and it never improved the whole time I was at Amaranthine. He looked at me like I was a stranger and not someone who’d fought at his side for a _year_. But he deserves to know of the Cure. And so,” she finished with a flourish, “that’s how little I want to go to Denerim – I’m putting it off to have this tedious conversation with you.” She looked away, crossing her arms again, an expression of studied indifference on her face.

Her final comment didn’t bother Cullen. There had been no bite in it – just, he’d guess, her being uncomfortable at having revealed so much. Cullen was surprised she’d opened up this much. It was like once she had started talking she couldn’t stop, and he wondered if she’d been on her own in all the years she’d spent looking for a cure. 

Cullen smiled, surprising her. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re having this tedious conversation with me.” 

She blinked at him. “You must not get out much.” 

His smile widened a little. “Not enough, that much is true.”

Mara didn’t reply, she just kept looking at him with that intense look that made him desperately want to know what she was thinking. “What were you expecting at Skyhold?” He blurted out the question without thinking, but he still couldn’t quite understand why she’d come here.

“The happiest I ever was–” Mara shook her head, cutting herself off and looking away from him.

“Please, tell me,” he implored.

“It sounds ridiculous.” She seemed embarrassed. “It was during the Blight, travelling together with everyone. I didn’t see eye to eye with them all but we… I had a purpose and I had this odd group of misfits with me. We were together for over a year, in difficult circumstances. And then we stopped the Blight and everyone went their separate ways. I feel like… like I’ve been alone ever since. I thought Skyhold would...” She trailed off and shrugged, unable or unwilling to articulate her feelings. 

But Cullen thought he understood. She’d hoped perhaps that Skyhold would give her the same feeling of friendship, or of home, that she’d had with her companions during the Blight. Of course, that was impossible. It was a different time, a different place, with different people. It might have seemed naive for her to expect to find something waiting for her here, but he understood – she didn’t have anywhere to go. Why not try Skyhold?

Cullen had made a home for himself in Skyhold, despite everything. He was, in so many ways, doing a lot better than he had been even just months ago. But Mara, he thought, was still lost. He realised he’d always thought of her as untouchable and invulnerable – she’d always shown a confident face, careful to never let her true feelings show. Was this what left her so very alone? 


	12. Chapter 12 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen considered what she’d told him.

“Skyhold,” he began slowly, “could be something to you. Not the same, of course, but you could find purpose here.”

She shook her head minutely and he could see something fragile in her that he’d never noticed before. “I want a life, Cullen, not just another purpose.” 

“And there is no reason you cannot have that here, either. Start with a purpose, perhaps – working with the other mages, or using your healing magic at the infirmary – and make it into a life. It doesn’t happen all at once.”

Mara stared at him, scrunching her eyebrows. “You sound like a children’s storybook, you’re that earnest.”

“It is simply the truth. It’s how I have done it.”

She looked down then, and gave a sigh, almost to herself, before looking up and past him. “It’s getting late,” she murmured. “I should go.” 

Cullen glanced out the window, surprised to see that night had truly fallen. Looking back at Mara, he could see that she was tired. “If you’re walking the battlements, could you at least make sure to keep yourself warm?”

“Oh, I won’t be doing that tonight. I need to sleep. Or try to sleep.” She hesitated. “Last night. The nightmare, the headache. Does that… happen often?”

He regarded her gravely. “More often than I’d like. The headaches are one of the side effects of lyrium withdrawal. But I have survived worse than that.” At the alarmed expression on her face, he hastened to add. “Don’t worry about me. I knew this path would not be easy, but it is better than the alternative.” 

She nodded, but tension still tightened her eyes. Still, she stood up. “Well, then. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

He hurried to stand too. “Not at all. But, before you go, may I ask you one more question?” 

Mara looked wary, but nodded.

“Thank you. Ah.” He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this. “When we were at the Circle, why did you…” He gestured a bit helplessly, but she clearly didn’t understand what he was trying to ask. “Why did you… approach me?” 

“ _Oh_.” Mara’s eyebrows rose. She clearly hadn’t expected him to ask that. “Cullen, I thought it was obvious. Do you not remember one of the very first things I said to you?”

He frowned, not sure what she was getting at. 

“I called you handsome. I wasn’t lying. I had a huge, very embarrassing crush on the new templar.” Surprise rippled through him. He’d always thought she was taciturn with her true feelings, although he felt this evening was proving him slightly wrong. Still, this moment of pure bluntness caught Cullen off guard. She saw his reaction. “Honestly."

“I-I thought you were making fun of me, sometimes.” 

“Well. I was, sometimes, yes, just because of how you reacted.” She grimaced. “I’m not saying I handled it well, and I know I probably wasn’t very nice to you sometimes, despite how I felt. I was young and… an idiot, really. And you were a templar. You must have heard my reputation when you arrived?” At his nod, she went on. “I was angry that I was stuck in that tower. Annoying the templars was the only thing that helped. I know that sounds stupid and probably doesn’t make sense but I think I just wanted everyone else to be as annoyed about being in that Tower as I was. I know now that it’s only a combination of dumb luck and the First Enchanter looking out for me that meant I never faced serious repercussions.”

“So,” said Cullen incredulously. “You were mean to me because you liked me?” 

Mara grimaced again. “Maker, when you put it like that… but, yes. I was confused. And, you know, not exactly thinking with my head.”  

Cullen was reeling. He found this slightly unbelievable. He had never been sure of her motives, but he’d also never considered that she’d just _liked_ him. 

Sadness washed over him. If they’d met outside of a Circle, like two normal people, would there have been any hope for them? 

“For years, I wondered.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I never considered it was something so simple.”

“I’m sorry too,” she said quietly. “I knew – before I even returned to the tower as a Warden – your feelings, and that you were struggling with it, with a mage basically throwing herself at you and your desire to do your duty. But I chose not to care, because you were making me feel something I couldn’t name and because I wanted you.”

_I wanted you_ , she said, referring to ten years ago. _I want you_ , she’d said earlier tonight.

Indecision momentarily wracked Cullen. He wanted her too, so badly. He always had, and it was useless to deny it any longer.

But should he want her? Should he just try, once and for all, to forget about her? Their eyes met again, and something in Cullen’s gaze made her face go flat, and she turned away. 

He realised she was going to leave, and he couldn’t let that happen yet. Without even registering what his body was doing, he’d moved to the door on pure instinct, placing his hand on it. Mara turned in surprise, looking up at him. 

She was so close, even closer than she’d been last night, and for a moment he just let himself feel, forgetting about everything else, and doing what felt right. He stepped forward, backing her into the door, bringing their bodies together, silently cursing his armour and the layers between them. Gently, he brought one hand up to her face, the other resting on her hip, intent on touching her the way she’d touched him last night. 

Immediately, however, he was irritated with the leather glove on his hand, and with a frustrated noise he pulled it off with his teeth, dropping it to the floor. Mara sucked in a breath at the sight, and he felt her shiver when he touched her with his fingers, gently tracing her face. Her own hands came up, over his chest and neck and into his hair, and despite how incredible it felt, he resisted her when she tried to tug his face towards hers.

“I want _you_ ,” he growled, and her eyes widened. “But not like this. Not when we’re both so…” He couldn’t even articulate the word. Raw? Vulnerable? Exhausted? Regardless, he knew now was not the best time, despite how much he wanted it. Mara’s eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed out his name like a plea. “I think you should go to Denerim.”

She started under him, and detached her hands from his hair, letting them fall to her side. When her eyes opened, Cullen could see a hint of anger in them. Bringing his other hand to her face, he cradled it gently again, relishing every single second he was close to her. “Please. I think it would be good to put that behind you. And then come back to Skyhold. If you want. Think about it. I-I’ll be waiting.”

“You’ll wait?” _For me?_ Cullen could hear the unspoken words in her question.

“Yes. I think we both have a lot to think about and I… want you to be sure.” He wanted to be sure himself, although he suspected he already was.

It was folly to think he could ever forget about her.

Mara’s dark eyes stared at him, full of desire. The anger had subsided but he could tell this wasn’t what she’d wanted him to say. “If I tell you I’m going, will you kiss me goodbye?” she whispered.

Cullen clenched his eyes shut, wanting nothing more. He shook his head and leaned closer to her. When he opened his eyes, he dropped his gaze to her parted mouth. His voice was rough when he spoke. “When I kiss you, it won’t be because you’re leaving or for any other reason than we both want to and we have the time to enjoy it.” He felt her hands fist at the fabric at his hips willing him to come closer, and a whimper escaped her lips. “I can’t kiss you now because I don’t know that once I start, if I’ll ever be able to stop.” With that, he summoned all his willpower to drop his hands from her face and step away, putting some distance between them before he changed his mind. 

Mara’s breath was shallow, her eyes wide as saucers, following his every move. “Well,” she managed to croak out. “That’s…” she shook her head and gave a loud exhale. “Maker, Cullen...”

A part of Cullen was pleased he could make her lose her words and knock her as off balance as she’d always made him. “Will you think about it?” His voice was still low and husky, and her eyes flashed, reflecting the lust he was still feeling himself. 

“I-I will.” Mara straightened up, pushing herself off the wall. Her eyes dragged from his face to his feet and then back up again, like she was committing him to memory. She moved towards the door, before hesitantly looking back at him. “Goodbye, Cullen.”

As soon as she’d left, Cullen leaned against his desk, not even noticing when he knocked several reports to the ground. He was so turned on, he was sorely tempted to take himself in hand for a release. But in truth, his mind was really too jumbled up, the ebb of lust beginning to fade now that she was gone and it sank in what had just happened, and what they’d shared with each other. He had not expected Mara to be as forthcoming as she eventually was, and he had certainly not expected things to escalate the way they had. 

Despite that, Cullen did feel like a weight was lifted from him, and a tiny part of him sparked in hope. He had meant every word he’d said to Mara. He wanted her, and he’d wanted her for so long, even during the times he knew he wouldn’t even have been able to look at her.

But now, things were different, and they were no longer in a Circle. He was no longer a templar.

They stood in Skyhold as equals.

That meant something.


	13. Chapter 13 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

Mara spoke to him every day. She made a point of it. And for Cullen, perhaps pathetically, it was the best part of his day. He had settled into his role as a templar, and was surprised to find that life in Kinloch was actually mostly boring. Since he’d arrived, he had not left the tower once, although he knew he’d eventually be sent to track down apostates or perhaps called to transport those newly come to their powers to the Circle.

Aside from his work, there just wasn’t much to do in the tower except visit the Chantry, read, sleep, or talk to his fellow templars. He hadn’t before considered how isolated they were in this tower, on this island, cut off from the rest of Ferelden. Surely it was only natural that the mages and templars here might gravitate towards each other? 

Sometimes Mara would only greet him, and that would be the extent of their interaction that day. She’d always smile at him in a way that seemed to hold a million promises, and Cullen failed again and again at Greagoir’s advice to show her no weakness. 

When she was able, she lingered, clearly unconcerned with Greagoir’s threat. She asked him a lot of questions, and though she spoke little about herself, Cullen tried to learn what kind of person she was. She could be bitingly sarcastic, and she had a mean streak that bothered him sometimes. But she was so clever, and she was funny even though she was crude and then he frequently saw something underneath her hard covering that made him think she was sweeter than she let on. 

Cullen had seen her assist other apprentices with a roll of her eyes and a comment about their uselessness, but also with genuine patience and compassion. And he saw her look at her friend Jowan with worry when he struggled with his magic, and he remembered what he had heard – that Jowan was likely to be made Tranquil. 

Mara made him laugh in a way that no one else had ever been able to, even if she did often shock him with the, frankly, unladylike things she’d say. She was witty and vivacious and too bright for this gloomy tower. 

Cullen still didn’t know why she spoke to him, and he could never fully shake the feeling that this was some kind of elaborate ruse that would leave him exposed for the idiot he was. 

But he never put a stop to their interactions, not even when she began to touch him again. Lightly, innocently, a graze of her hand across his arm, a light touch at his shoulder. He knew it was wrong. 

It was so wrong.

And he could not forget what was coming up. He’d attended Harrowings before, of course, but he’d never been the one designated to administer the blow if things went wrong.

And Cullen knew very well what happened on Harrowings that went badly. A mage, taken over by a demon and now an abomination, would need to be put down as quickly as possible. It seemed brutal, but Cullen – and all templars – knew it was the only compassionate end for them. Hesitating could easily mean the death of many more. 

But still, the idea of doing it to someone was terrible. Having to face doing it to Mara was unfathomable. 

Cullen prayed for strength, although he knew if Mara fell to a demon during her Harrowing, he would end it. It would be worse not to. Killing her, no matter how he felt about it, would be the right thing to do. After all, she was already as good as dead if she succumbed to a demon.

Still, as he watched her, Cullen just couldn’t imagine it happening. Mara was so talented, and he knew enough about her by now to know that she worked hard at her studies. There was no reason for her to fail – not Irving’s star apprentice. 

He thought he was in love with her. With a mage. Her hand would lightly graze his arm, over his armour, and his mind would fixate on how it would feel like on his skin. He could see her smirk, her delight in making him blush. He wanted – oh he wanted so badly – and the thrills of her words and touch were equal only to his self-reproach for allowing this to happen. He was falling further and further and it was inevitable that he was going to crash. 

His prayers were not just for strength to aid him in Mara’s Harrowing, but also to allow him to end this strange relationship they were cultivating.

The night before her Harrowing, they were talking. Cullen was skittish – more skittish than usual – knowing what was coming up. He felt guilty. Mara had no idea. She wouldn’t know until she was dragged out of bed and then thrown into the Fade with barely a moment to prepare. It took everything in him not to blurt out what was going to happen to her.

It was late. Cullen was sitting in the Chantry, bleary-eyed, staring at nothing. Mara appeared, smiling at him like she always did, before sitting beside him, at an appropriate distance. She was quiet for once. The candles dimmed lower and the Chantry grew quieter and finally emptied.

Cullen itched to touch her. He curled his hands into fists where they rested on his knees. More than anything, he wished he was free to touch her. 

“Cullen?” Her voice was so soft, and he exhaled loudly and looked over at her. Mara scooted closer, not dropping her gaze, before reaching up with a hand to touch his face.

He drew in a sharp breath, shocked by the tender touch on his skin. When had someone last touched him like this, he briefly wondered, and then remembered – that sweet farm girl, in another lifetime.

That had been safe. This was dangerous; he should move away, knock her hand back, tell her to never do this again, to stay away from him. But he didn’t. He _couldn’t_. He’d wanted this from the moment he’d set eyes on her, and Cullen both hated and loved his weakness. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he subconsciously turned his head towards her. Mara’s fingers were so soft, and she touched him with unexpected gentleness. She cupped his cheek, her thumb sliding down over his lips, and Cullen felt her shift. Opening his eyes, he was startled by how close she was. Her deep brown eyes were so dark they were almost black, and her own lips had parted. Mara gave a shaky exhale and he could feel her breath wash over his face.

Cullen swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. He still felt frozen, incapable of moving away while also not able to make himself move to touch her back. Reciprocating, somehow, seemed like a line too far. But right now she was touching him and he couldn’t even bring himself to care if someone walked into the room and saw them. 

He didn’t want this to stop.

Mara leaned in closer, looking determined and Cullen knew – he knew – what she was going to do and still he didn’t move. Her lips touched his softly and his eyes closed again. The kiss was chaste enough, but it sent desire singing through him like nothing had before. Her kiss became more urgent, and she leaned against him, both of her hands sliding into his hair, her lips becoming insistent against his. Tentatively, he began kissing her back, and when her tongue slid against his lips, he welcomed it willingly, any sensible thoughts fleeing his mind. His tentativeness disappeared, and the kiss became deeper and more frantic. A hunger filled Cullen. Without realising it, his hands had moved to wrap around Mara’s waist, holding her to him, and it was only when she gave a low moan that Cullen – somehow – pulled himself away with a shuddering breath. 

Awkwardly he stood, trying very hard to ignore his erection, and backed away from her. He ran his hands through his hair – where her hands had just been – and licked his lips. Maker, he could still taste her. 

Cullen made the mistake of looking at Mara. She was staring after him with a heavy lidded gaze, a clear hunger that matched his own. Her lips were red and plump from their kissing and her cheeks were stained with a becoming blush. He hauled himself further away, turning his back on her, knowing it was dangerous to keep looking at her. She was temptation brought to life. 

“That was a mistake,” Cullen ground out, getting himself under control. He heard her huff behind him and move. When he realised she was moving closer to him, he held up a hand. “Please, don’t… don’t come any closer.” 

To his relief, she didn’t. But he could feel her gaze boring into him, so he turned back around, trying not to look too closely at her. A healthy distance separated them, but Cullen knew he needed to get out of this room and away from her before he caved again.

“A mistake wouldn’t feel that good,” Mara said, a hard edge to her voice. 

Cullen disagreed. “This won’t happen again. I’m sorry, I-I should never have let it get this far.” Shame washed over him as the full reality of what had just happened hit him. He felt like he was barely treading water and his feelings for Mara were going to drag him under and drown him. She was a mage. He was a templar. This could not happen. It would _not_ happen. 

Mara frowned and crossed her arms. “If you think mages and templars never do this, then you’re more naive than I thought.” 

He shook his head. That didn’t make it right. Swallowing heavily, he knew he had to walk away. She’d argue with him until she had him convinced the sky was green and the grass was blue. “I don’t care. I don’t… do t-this.” He wished he sounded more forceful – or sounded forceful at all – but at least he’d said it.

Once again, he turned away from her, this time heading towards the doorway. The tower suddenly seemed very quiet and oppressive, and he’d have done anything just to be able to step outside for some fresh air. But he couldn’t do that, all he could do was return to his room and try and sleep and not think about the kiss that had just blown his world of its axis. 

He did not sleep at all.


	14. Chapter 14 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Mara left.

Life in Skyhold went on as normal for everyone, except for Cullen, whose mind was filled with possibilities – both positive and negative – that might arise from Mara’s return into his life. He lingered over their conversation, her expressions and her actions, trying to understand her. 

He considered the worst possible scenarios that could happen, and he thought, for the first time in a long time, about what he _wanted_. Not just about his duties or the Inquisition or what was required of him as Commander, but what he actually wanted; now and in the future – if they defeated Corypheus and survived. 

And Mara was always there. 

Was it normal to want someone so much after ten years apart? To have this hope for an ill thought infatuation of his youth? She might not even come back – she had told him she wanted him, but she was so… wary, he thought. Like an injured animal that needed help but still flexed its claws to scare people away and was still more than capable of hurting someone. 

Had she forgotten about him as soon as she’d left Skyhold?

He hoped not. 

Cullen pushed himself. He wanted to be too tired to think, and hopefully too tired to dream, when he finally fell into his bed. He pushed himself too hard – not sleeping or eating enough – and his aches and irritability racketed up to high levels again. It wasn’t long before an irate Cassandra gave him a dressing down about it, instructing him to look after himself. 

Cullen bore it with a good humour that surprised even himself, perhaps because he could see Cassandra’s worry leaking through her anger, and he felt guilty. He’d often thought she considered him too highly, that she placed too much faith in his ability to be able to resist lyrium and still be an effective Commander for the Inquisition. 

When he voiced this, Cassandra looked at him gravely. “You do not give yourself enough credit, Commander. You’ve come so far; I would not see you undo it all, especially not over a woman.” 

Cullen spluttered. “I am not… there is not…” Getting over his surprise at Cassandra’s mention of Mara – Cassandra had not mentioned her since that time in the courtyard with Dorian, he finally muttered. “That has nothing to do with it.” 

“Does it not?” She arched an eyebrow at him. 

He hadn’t wanted to explain to her about Mara. He wasn’t even sure _how_ to explain whatever was going on between them. 

But Cassandra was right in that he needed to take better care of himself, so he tried to heed her advice.

A large contingent of nobles arrived, and Josephine sent him over samples of sweets and other treats they’d brought. Leliana’s scouts appeared with reports and coffee that he knew the Spymaster herself made them bring. 

Dorian insisted on his chess games, and then Varric would appear and wheedle them both into the tavern for drinks with the Iron Bull and Blackwall and Sera or for a game of Wicked Grace. 

Cullen learned not to play Wicked Grace against Josephine. 

Despite the uncertainty, the chaos, and the stress, Cullen found this was the most content he’d been in a very long time. Although that wasn’t to say things were perfect or couldn’t be better. He was doing good with the Inquisition, and felt he was making amends. He still had bad days, of course, and semi-frequent debilitating headaches, not to mention the nightmares that haunted him. Some days his body ached so badly he worried he wouldn’t have the strength to pick up his shield. Occasionally his hands shook uncontrollably and he was rooted with fear that it would never go away, and he’d no longer be able to wield a sword.

Cullen forced himself to channel that fear into determination to over this. He kept reminding himself that things were better than they had been, and that they would continue to improve. 

He didn’t always succeed.

 

\---

 

The Inquisitor returned from Emprise du Lion with a number of revelations. She had discovered how the Red Templars were growing their red lyrium, and uncovered information on Samson – a former templar colleague and friend of Cullen’s.

Cullen was furious whenever he thought of Samson, knowing that he had aligned himself with Corypheus and was corrupting other templars with red lyrium. He had seen first hand what it did to them at Haven. 

While he knew the Inquisition’s resources would root out Samson eventually, he wished he could do something more active to help. Cullen was determined to bring Samson down.

The weeks slipped by. The Inquisitor began to join them occasionally for drinks in the tavern to everyone’s delight. She’d kept herself apart – either because of her noble rank or status as Inquisitor, Cullen was never quite sure. But several bricks seemed to have been knocked out of the wall she had around herself. 

There were a few raised eyebrows at the closeness between her and Warden Blackwall, and the intimate looks that passed between them.

Surprised as he was by the development, Cullen could not begrudge the Inquisitor any happiness she might find, and Blackwall was a good man.

He thought of Mara often. She had not said she would return, just that she would think about what he’d said. And he had no idea how long her business in Denerim might take. So, he was surprised when the Inquisitor announced they’d received a letter from King Alistair. 

“A Venatori infestation,” Trevelyan declared. “He says that Warden Amell has already saved his life from them, and she’ll stay at least until they’re dealt with. But they’re having trouble tracking down the source of the plot and they appear to have infiltrated Denerim deeply.” She paused, tapping the letter. “He’s worried.” 

“I have just the agent in mind for this.” Leliana frowned down at the map of Ferelden for a moment before looking back up at Trevelyan. “Allow me to send her to Denerim to quietly hunt down the Venatori spies.”

Cullen shook his head. “No. Send forces to aid in the manhunt. Not only should we help, but everyone should see us doing it.”

Leliana sighed. “Cullen, this requires more delicacy if we are to root out the plot. Sending a battalion cannot be the answer for everything.”

“Of course not,” he snapped, “but a force can keep the king and Mara safe. A lone agent cannot.” 

“Oh? You think my agent incapable? You think Mara cannot take care of herself?” 

“Oh, for–”

“If you will excuse me,” Josephine interrupted in that conciliatory voice she had that also conveyed a 'don't argue with me' attitude. “I personally think that they are both good possibilities.” She paused to give a pointed look at both of them. “But on the whole, I believe Leliana’s plan would work better. A visible force could send the Venatori underground, making it more difficult to find them. The king is a warrior, surrounded by trained guards. Warden Amell is a powerful mage who has faced down worse than Venatori. Have faith, Cullen.”

Trevelyan was looking at Josephine with a tiny smile. “Agreed. Leliana, send your agent.” At Leliana’s nod of acknowledgement, Trevelyan turned to Cullen, who was displeased – and probably looked it – but did not argue. “There was also a letter from Denerim for you, Commander.” She picked it up from the pile of letters on the table, the seal still intact. With extreme nonchalance, she handed it to him. “It appears to be from Warden Amell herself.”

Cullen looked from the letter to Trevelyan’s face and back again, before taking it from her hand. “Thank you.” He had not expected this, and pleasant butterflies sprung up in his stomach. She had clearly been thinking of him if she had penned him a letter. He hoped it contained something good.

“Are you expecting this to be a letter of business or pleasure, Cullen?” Leliana asked, slightly mischievously.

“If there is anything of importance in it, I will let you know,” he replied stiffly, ignoring the interested looks from them all. Carefully, he tucked the letter away, wanting more than anything to read its contents now, but not with an audience.

The meeting went on for some time longer and the whole time, Cullen could feel the letter burning a hole in his side. 

“Inquisitor, one last thing.” When Leliana said this, it took considerable willpower on Cullen’s part not to say anything in annoyance. All he could think about was the letter. Unaware of Cullen’s thoughts, Leliana continued, “The mages and templars from Hasmal arrived safely and have been settling in well. They are grateful for the Inquisition’s help.”

Trevelyan nodded. “Good. Are all the mages housed in the tower?”

Josephine answered her. “There is still plenty of room for them, and they are comfortable. There has been some friction with the Hasmal templars – the mages already in the tower have become used to their independence, and it puts the new templars on edge.”

The Inquisitor’s eyes found Cullen, and he knew what she was going to ask. “It is under control, Inquisitor. There has been some minor incidents, but this is a transitional period for both the mages and templars. We keep templars stationed nearby at all times – the Hasmal templars will adjust.” Skyhold’s mini mage tower, headed by Grand Enchanter Fiona, was certainly unique. Not all of the Inquisition’s mages lived there, of course, but it had become a centre for all of them to congregate and learn. The more relaxed guard of the templars seemed to be working. There were even some mage children there, learning their powers.

Vivienne disapproved of these rebel mages and of the unconventional set up. One of the most savage things Cullen had ever seen was an impossibly polite but _deadly_ conversation between Vivienne and Fiona. If words could kill, Fiona would be a bloodied carcass.

Finally, discussion of the Hasmal arrivals wound down, and the Inquisitor mercifully dismissed them. Cullen let the women leave and turned towards the window to read Mara’s letter in a better light.

_Cullen,_

_This is only the second personal letter I’ve ever sent in my life, the first being to my brother. So, please feel free to feel special about that but also don’t let Leliana know. She always complained I never wrote. In truth, I am not sure what to write, but when Alistair decided to contact the Inquisition for help with the Venatori, I felt compelled to write to you._

_It’s strange to be back in Denerim, especially now that I’m no longer Warden Commander. I’m unable to complete my reason for coming here until we’ve dealt with the threat. We’ve found a few agents, but we know there are many more. Everyone is on edge._

_I’m doing what I can, but it feels like very little. I am very much in demand, though. Spirit healers are popular wherever they go, I can’t imagine why._

_Onto a more interesting topic. I’ve thought a lot about what you said. And about what you did. Just so you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life and you barely touched me. Pulling off your glove with your teeth? What you said? Maker, Cullen, I replay it in my head all the time._

_I hope this letter isn’t intercepted._

_I also want to thank you. I know I’m not easy to be around sometimes. I’ve mostly been on my own for years, but that is probably a flimsy excuse. But you gave me a push that I needed. I’ve felt lost for a long time. I mostly still do, but I feel like I’ve just found a map. All I need now is to learn how to read it._

_I’ve been thinking about you a lot, it’s really very distracting._

_Please take care of yourself._

_Mara Amell_

Cullen read it over and over, a tumult of emotion in him, unable to settle on just one feeling.

She thought of him, possibly as much as he thought of her. And she was beginning to find her way, he hoped. Whether that led her back to him remained to be seen, but he wished she would find happiness.

Cullen read her words again. “ _I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life and you barely touched me.”_  

He smiled to himself.

He was still smiling when he left the War Room. Leliana was chatting to Josephine in her office, and they fell silent when he walked in. 

Seeing his expression, Leliana asked casually, “Good letter, then?”

Cullen paused, half tempted to leave without answering. “Yes.”

“And there is nothing I need to know?” 

His smile widened. “Absolutely nothing, Leliana, I assure you.” He knew that would irritate her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

With that, he left, still smiling.


	15. Chapter 15 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Not long after he received Mara’s letter, Cullen got the other news he had been waiting for.

They’d discovered Samson’s location – the Shrine of Dumat in northern Orlais. Cullen couldn’t sit this one out. He wanted to be there when the Inquisitor met his old friend. He needed to look Samson in the eye and try to understand why he’d gone the path he had and followed Corypheus. 

It was time to face another aspect of his past.

 

\---

 

But unfortunately for Cullen, he did not get the opportunity. They failed to apprehend Samson, who escaped before they reached the Shrine of Dumat. But the excursion had not been useless – they’d discovered some important information that would help them defeat Samson when they inevitably did have to meet him in battle. 

It remained difficult for him to reconcile the Samson he had known – the man who had been his friend – with the Samson who was leading the red templars. He was still angry about it. 

But there was a sliver of himself that understand why Samson had potentially allied with Corypheus, even if Cullen didn’t want to really acknowledge it to himself. Templars were leashed to lyrium, and they had brutally cut Samon’s leash and left him to shift for himself with no support. 

Cullen could see how, in another life, it could have been him, so easily. And that scared him.

But it didn’t stop his fury at Samson’s choice to ally with Corypheus and give the templars he commanded the lethal red lyrium, turning them into monsters. 

However, he was confident the Inquisition would be able to stop him. They’d interrupted the red lyrium supply routes and made Samson flee from his base. And he had every confidence that Dagna – the Inquisition’s perky arcanist – would come up with a solution to the formidable armour Samson wore. That advantage would win them the day.

The opportunity to get out of Skyhold for a time and travel with the Inquisitor was also a novelty – although he wished it were under better circumstances. 

Cullen did find the travel wearying, and the change in his location and schedule proved to be more difficult than he expected it to be. His cravings flared more often, stronger than it had been for some time, and he worried he would be incapacitated by shaking hands or a headache. He told no one his worries, unwilling to admit his weakness after insisting on coming along. 

It was a relief to run into bandits on the road; foolish opportunists who picked the wrong group to target. Battle cleared his head, for a time. 

Cullen knew he also wasn’t the most pleasant of travelling companions, but he was grateful Dorian and Cassandra were with him. Even Varric was a good distraction, although there were only so many exaggerated stories about Hawke Cullen was willing to listen to in one evening. 

The last thing he wanted to hear were stories about Kirkwall.

Mara remained in his thoughts, almost as constant as lyrium did, the weeks of her absence not making her fade from his mind. He had not written back to her before leaving Skyhold, and he wondered if he should have. Would she have expected a reply? He brooded over it, hoping there would be an update waiting for him when he got back to Skyhold. 

Thinking of Skyhold made him realise there would be numerous issues he’d need to get an update on. There would be a pile of reports and problems and work. It would at least take his mind off everything – long days of travel on horseback meant he had too much time for thinking.

When they arrived back at the fortress, the work started as soon as he dismounted his horse. A report was shoved into his hand, and Leliana and Josephine appeared, welcoming them back, ready for updates. 

Cullen was truly glad to be back. Skyhold was home.

 

\---

 

It was the next day in the War Room that Leliana mentioned Mara.

“We have news from Denerim – with the aid of our agent, Mara and Alistair were able to track down the Venatori and purge them from the city. It involved a very exciting battle in the castle kitchens, according to the report.”

Cullen was listening to the proceedings, staring down at a note in his own hand, but at Mara’s name, his head snapped up. Leliana arched an eyebrow at him.

Josephine scribbled something on the parchment in front of her. “Speaking of – Inquisitor, Warden Amell wishes to speak to you.”

“She’s here?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Three sets of eyes turned to him. “Yes, Commander,” Josephine continued before turning back to Trevelyan. “She arrived back a few days ago and is lodged in the guest quarters for now, but if she is staying we will need to make alternative arrangements as we are expecting an entourage of Orlesian–”

“She’s _staying_?” His heart thudded. He had not expected… he hadn’t let himself hope that she’d be _here_. He’d been back in Skyhold almost a full day and hadn’t known she was here. 

Josephine looked at him again, this time with a hint of impatience. “I said, _if_ she is staying. I do not know what she wants to speak to the Inquisitor about.”

Trevelyan nodded. “I’ll talk to her now, if that will be all?” She looked at her three advisors, who all nodded. “Good. Where can she usually be found during the day?”

“In the encampments, I believe she is assisting the healers. Please be careful, Inquisitor, if you decide to venture outside the fortress walls. Anyone may be lurking.”

“I will. Perhaps…” Trevelyan arched an eyebrow at Cullen. “Perhaps the Commander would like to accompany me?”  

“Oh. Yes, Inquisitor.” His mind was racing a mile a minute. Cullen felt like he should pause to get a grip on his thoughts, but he really wanted to see Mara.

Falling into step with the Inquisitor, Cullen tried to quell his hopes, at least a little. Her being here didn’t guarantee anything.

Trevelyan was quiet until they began crossing the bridge. “Commander, I have to ask. What’s going on between you and the Warden?” Cullen got the impression she had been dying to ask him that for a while. 

He gathered his thoughts, sorting through the complicated _thing_ between him and Mara. “My first posting as a templar was in the Ferelden Circle, a little over ten years ago now,” he began. “She was a mage there. There was some youthful infatuation on my part. On… both our parts, actually.” As he talked, Cullen found it a relief. He’d never really discussed Mara with anyone – aside from Meredith, which had been a huge mistake. She’d taken the shame he’d felt over his feelings for a mage, along with the anger and resentment he’d carried with him since Kinloch and twisted them into something bigger and sicker in him.

“I didn’t think that was allowed?” asked Trevelyan carefully, but she was frowning. Cullen had no doubt she knew very well it wasn’t allowed – half her family were templars, as far as he knew.  

He shook his head. “It wasn’t,” he replied shortly. “I felt shame for a long time over my feelings, and for acting on them, and for the harsh words I said to her when I saw her last.”

“And now?” 

Cullen hesitated.

“I apologise if I’m prying, Commander.” She didn’t sound particularly sorry. 

“It’s not that, Inquisitor. When she first arrived at Skyhold we… reconnected. But I don’t know what will happen.”

Trevelyan stared straight ahead. “None of us do, Commander. And while your business is your own, I still must ask this, for your own sake and the sake of the Inquisition: do you think it’s a good idea to get involved with a mage?” 

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised to hear a note of disapproval, considering her upbringing. She was a devout noble whose family was well known for its piousness. They had close ties to the Chantry and the templars, with many of them serving. Trevelyan took pride in her family name, and her noble connections had proven useful to the Inquisition. Her family took it in stride that one of theirs was the Herald of Andraste. 

Considering this, it was surprising that she’d ended up going to the mages over the templars, but Cullen knew it was mostly due to the fact that she couldn’t ignore the threat posed by a Tevinter magister in Redcliffe. By the time that had been dealt with, it was too late to turn to the templars. She’d seemed regretful of that, and was concerned for her family members in the Order.

But she’d treated the mages of the Inquisition well, deciding to extend an olive branch. They’d proven themselves, but she’d asked for constant updates for some time, clearly not trusting them as much as she’d appeared.

Even though Cullen could understand Trevelyan’s position, he still didn’t appreciate the judgement he heard in her voice. And rumours of her clandestine affair with Blackwall were still running rife. Cullen shut down anyone speaking of it around him – anything else was disrespectful. But he felt it unfair she would begrudge his happiness when she had hers. 

“Is it a good idea to get involved with anyone right now, Inquisitor? We are at war. Or should we take a chance at happiness with who we choose?“ Evelyn Trevelyan wore her mantle of Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste with pride, but she was still a woman underneath it all. And Cullen knew she struggled, despite her efforts to keep nearly everyone at arm’s length. 

Trevelyan stopped, levelling him with a stare. But he could see her vulnerability underneath the stern mask she wore. “Perhaps, Commander. But we should never lose sight of what is most important – the success of the Inquisition and the defeat of Corypheus.”

With that she continued on down the path, and Cullen hastened to follow her. It wasn’t long before they reached the encampment.


	16. Chapter 16 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Mara wasn’t difficult to locate. It turned out that she had been visiting both the infirmaries in Skyhold and the encampments and using her magic and herbalism skills to help the sick and injured – be they soldiers or civilians. She’d been doing it on her first visit to Skyhold, and immediately taken it up again when she’d returned a few days prior. The soldiers, who were pleased and intimidated that their Commander and Inquisitor was among them, were evidently fond of her, happily telling them where they could find the Lady Amell.

Mara had never struck Cullen as a healer – but she was clearly skilled at it. He remembered well how she’d helped him, even without magic.

“Lady?” Trevelyan murmured, with a flicker of irritation.

Cullen bit back a chuckle at her tone, remembering Josephine mentioning that Trevelyan was a bit of a stickler for etiquette, when it suited her. “It’s a mark of respect, Inquisitor. Most of these soldiers don’t know or care for the intricacies of rank beyond the military.”

Trevelyan nodded. “I understand.”

The encampment had become almost a proper town. There was a busy path to and from Skyhold, with supplies constantly arriving, messengers constantly leaving, and troops and people going back and forth all the time. With the rise of the Inquisition’s power, many had flocked to the the area around the fortress. It wasn’t just limited to those who wished to join officially – there were merchants, minstrels, camp followers, pilgrims, and all the general hangers-on that appeared in situations like this, even aside from the ever-growing army. The Inquisition had done their best to secure it and keep things running smoothly.

Mara wasn’t too far from the gate to Skyhold, in a large tent set aside as an infirmary. One side of the tent was open, allowing cool air and light to flood the interior. Inside, Mara was hunched over a shirtless soldier lying on the table before her, examining his shoulder. There were various tables and supplies stacked around them. As they reached the tent, they heard her speaking. Cullen paused and Trevelyan followed suit, her eyes flicking between her Commander and this mage with interest.

“No, it was stupid of you. You just made it worse.” Mara had her back to them, but her voice still carried over the sounds of activity around her. Cullen had to smile at how cross she sounded. A good healer she may be, but her bedside manner evidently left something to be desired.

“Perhaps we should wait?” Cullen murmured to Trevelyan, whose eyes slid sideways to him before she nodded.

The soldier with Mara sounded pleading. “I know, Lady Amell, but we–”

“But nothing,” she snapped. “All you’ve done is aggravate it and rip it open so it’ll take longer to heal. I told you to rest.”

The soldier sounded petulant. “But I have to train! I can’t just sit around waiting for this to heal.”

“So will you let me use magic?” 

There was silence for a moment before the soldier answered, more hesitantly. “I’d… I’d rather not. I saw what happened at–”

“Fine,” she interrupted him again, clearly not wanting to hear whatever traumatic thing he’d seen a mage do to make him refuse healing magic. “But if you’re insisting on healing the slow way, you’re going to have to rest.” There was a mumble from the man that Cullen didn’t quite catch, and Mara responded sharply. “You will. Don’t think I won’t come down here and check.” 

With that, Mara stood up. “I’m going to finish cleaning the wound and make a salve which will stave off infection. Then–” As she turned, she caught sight of Cullen just outside the tent, and she fell silent with a splutter, surprise written across her face. 

Cullen drank her in like he was dying of thirst. Their eyes locked and for a moment everything else ceased to exist. He heard and saw nothing but her. She still looked tired, but better than she had when she’d last been at Skyhold. Less weary, brighter eyed. More sturdy. He hoped she had found some peace with herself. 

He wished that she would stay, and that he could learn everything about this complicated, confusing woman. 

Cullen thought she was looking at him the same way – hope and need written across her face. All he wanted to do was cross the short distance between them and take her in his arms and kiss her, finally kiss her the way he’d always wanted to, with nothing to keep them apart. 

But the Inquisitor cleared her throat delicately, making him remember why he couldn't do that right now. Mara also blinked and broke their eye contact, taking a deep breath and looking at Trevelyan. But Cullen couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

“Ah, Inquisitor,” she said weakly. “Cullen. I heard you were back at Skyhold.” Her eyes flicked back to his, dark and wanting, and Cullen felt a jolt through the pit of his stomach. 

“Mara. It’s good to see you.” his voice was soft like velvet, and even Trevelyan turned to him with slightly wide eyes at his intimate tone.

“Commander!” The soldier on the table sat upright, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. Now Cullen could see the nasty wound that Mara had been inspecting, running across his shoulder down to his upper chest. “Inquisitor!” He sounded panicked, and Mara immediately turned back to him.

“Lie back down, for Maker’s sake. I don’t think they’ll mind that you aren’t standing to attention.” She carefully nudged his uninjured shoulder, gently – but firmly – encouraging him to lie back.

“At ease, soldier,” Cullen said gruffly, now stepping forward into the tent. Trevelyan followed him, taking a seat opposite where Mara had been, while Cullen remained standing, trying not to stare at Mara as she moved around the tent, gathering supplies. 

The soldier looked exceedingly nervous at the sudden proximity of two of the Inquisition leaders, and Cullen felt a bit sorry for him. Thankfully, Trevelyan, for all her noble haughtiness at times, was good at speaking to people. When she put her mind to it, she had the ability to make the person she was speaking to feel as though they were the most important person in the world to her, and he’d seen her employ it on numerous occasions. She didn’t let people get close to her, but Trevelyan liked helping people, and she inspired loyalty. 

“What’s your name, soldier?” She asked, smiling at him.

“Alud, Inquisitor,” he replied, wide-eyed. 

“What happened to you, Alud?”

“Demons, Inquisitor, in the Western Approach. Mages controlling them. Claws. Took a nasty blow –”

“That was healing nicely,” Mara interrupted, busy grinding herbs with her back to them, “until he decided he was well enough to return to training and ripped it open.”

“I thought it would be okay,” Alud muttered. 

Trevelyan looked thoughtful. “Your enthusiasm is commendable. But we need you at your best, and there’s no shame in taking time out to heal.” 

Alud looked contrite. “Yes, Inquisitor.” 

“And you don’t want to be healed with magic?” Her voice was careful and nonjudgemental.

“No, Inquisitor, I…” he trailed off, glancing at Mara’s back for a second and then lowered his voice. “I don’t trust magic.”

Cullen’s eyes flickered to Mara, as did Trevelyan’s. But Mara made no acknowledgement that she’d heard what he’d said, only turned back towards them with the salve now ready. “I’m going to apply this,” she said coolly, “and bandage you up. Then I’m going to strap your arm to prevent you from aggravating it again. Then you rest. I will check on you tomorrow.” There was a warning in her voice. 

Alud looked a little resigned, but Cullen could tell he’d do as she said. “Thank you, Lady Amell.” 

The Inquisitor kept up a stream of polite and easy chat as Mara carefully and efficiently carried out her task.  Cullen felt awkward and tongue-tied, not saying much. He suspected by the end of the conversation he’d know every personal detail about Alud – who was, to give him credit, holding up well. The wound had looked very painful. Soon the young soldier was standing up, looking embarrassed as Mara helped him into his shirt. He moved gingerly, but then his expression brightened. 

“It does feel better already!” 

Mara regarded him ruefully. “That’s the point, but glad to hear it.” With a bow and some more babbling to Trevelyan, Alud was off and Mara turned away from them again to tidy up her work area.

“Does it bother you, Warden Amell, what he said about magic?” 

Mara turned back to Trevelyan, regarding her carefully. “Yes,” she said evenly, but didn’t elaborate, much to Cullen’s disappointment. She just turned back to her work. “And Mara is fine. I’m no longer a Warden.” 

“Mara.” Cullen could see the Inquisitor taking Mara’s measure. He remained silent, knowing that Mara had requested the Inquisitor’s presence and not wanting to insert himself. “You’re no longer a Warden,” she repeated. “Is that what you wanted to see me about?”

“No.” Mara’s retort was short.

“Then…?”

Straightening up and placing down her work, Mara turned around fully and looked Trevelyan in the eye. She took a deep breath. “I’d like to join the Inquisition. I’d like to…” she faltered for a second, her gaze meeting Cullen’s. “I want to stay.”

“You do?” He whispered.

“What skills do you bring to the Inquisition, Mara?” Trevelyan’s tone was a little more severe than it needed to be, but Cullen knew the Inquisitor wanted Mara to join.

Mara knew that too.

Mara replied bluntly. “I’m the Hero of Ferelden. You of all people should understand the importance of titles. I’m an excellent healer, both with and without magic. You won’t get a better spirit healer in Skyhold than me. I must admit that I’m rusty in battle these days, but I can still take care of myself and others around me, as proven by my recent visit to Denerim. I’m sure the king would provide a good reference if you asked.” She shrugged. “I know you’ve taken down dragons, Inquisitor, as have I. But I also killed an archdemon.”

Cullen looked down to try and hide his smile. She sounded so effortlessly arrogant, although she hadn’t said anything untrue. He glanced up to see Trevelyan regarding Mara with raised eyebrows, but then she nodded.

“Very well. Welcome to the Inquisition, Mara Amell. You’re doing good work here with the soldiers – many of whom are Ferelden and remember the Blight. Your presence is good for morale. I’d like you to continue helping in this capacity for now.” Trevelyan paused. “But I might call upon you for other tasks. Perhaps next time we need to fight a dragon.” There was a definite challenge in Trevelyan’s voice, and Mara simply inclined her head in response. Cullen resisted the urge to tell them that there was no need to go looking for dragons but he probably wouldn’t survive the withering look he’d get from both of them.

“Good.” Trevelyan stood up and turned to Cullen. “I’m going back to Skyhold.”

“Would you like me to accompany you, Inquisitor?” He asked, keeping any reluctance out of his voice, dragging his eyes away from Mara.

Trevelyan’s gaze flitted back to Mara momentarily, who was regarding them both with interest. “That won’t be necessary,” she said archly. “I only asked you to come with me in the first place because you obviously wanted to see her.” 

Cullen felt his face grow hot. “It wasn’t…” 

But the Inquisitor was already leaving. Cullen raised his eyes to Mara’s. Her face held a tiny smirk.

He wanted to kiss it off.

“So, you wanted to see me?” Her tone was teasing, but warm. He thought it was the warmest he’d ever heard her.

“Yes. I received your letter.” He sat down in the chair the Inquisitor had vacated, while she took the seat on the opposite side, folding her hands in front of her on the table. But mentioning the letter reminded him of its content. He could tease her right back, and he was surprised how easily it came to him. “So, you’ve been thinking about me a lot?”

Mara glanced away, fighting a smile. “I did say that, didn’t I?” She looked back at him, with a sly twinkle in her eyes. “That’s what happens when you press ladies up against walls like that.” 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

“Do you press many ladies up against walls like that?” Her tone remained light, but Cullen could hear a hint of something else there. Uncertainty? Was she asking if there was anyone else? He leaned forward, covering her hands with his, and he saw her swallow heavily.

“Just you,” he murmured. Her face was so close to his, he could easily lean in and kiss her. But he wasn’t about to do that here – it was too busy, and he was probably already attracting attention. It was just too easy to lose himself in her, especially when she was staring back at him like _that_ , with her mouth partly open and desire in her eyes. 

Mara’s eyebrows raised and she too leaned forward, dangerously close. “Really?” 

“Commander!” As if out of nowhere, a soldier materialised beside them. With a sigh, Cullen released Mara’s hands and turned to glare at the interruption. The soldier shrank slightly under the look; shrinking even further when he saw the expression mirrored on Mara’s face.

“Commander, uh, I’m sorry to interrupt, but news of you being in the encampment has spread. It would be good for morale for the men to see you and I was wondering if you would accompany me?” He fidgeted, probably regretting his timing. 

“Duty calls,” drawled Mara, leaning back in her chair and making the soldier even more flustered. 

“Indeed,” Cullen responded dryly. “I’ll be with you in a moment, soldier.” 

“Excellent, commander!” The man relaxed but did not move, clearly not getting the hint. 

“Soldier,” Cullen said in a dangerous tone. “In a moment.” 

“Commander? Oh!” He flushed a little. “Yes, ser.” With that he retreated out of the tent, standing a safe distance away.

Mara looked impressed. “That was very… commanding, Commander.”

The low pitch of her voice caused _him_ to flush, which didn’t feel particularly Commander-like. So he stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for the interruption.” 

She shook her head. “Not your fault. And hardly surprising…” She trailed off, looking speculative, before standing and rounding the table to stand beside him, almost touching him. Cullen turned to face her, and she tilted her head up to look into his face. 

“I’m staying in the big guest quarters just off the courtyard. When you have time, come find me?” She turned to leave, but Cullen grabbed her wrist, feeling the jump of her pulse even through his gloves. His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist, feeling shockingly intimate in such a public space.

“Tonight.” He said roughly, and she nodded, eyes widening.

She left, and Cullen watched her go, butterflies settling in his stomach. It wasn’t until the soldier waiting for him cleared his throat pointedly that he remembered just what he was supposed to be doing, and he turned away and tried to focus on his work.


	17. Chapter 17 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

Cullen was dreading Mara’s Harrowing already, but after their kiss, he feared what might happen. Would she say something when she saw him in the Harrowing chamber? Could his presence distract her and potentially make her fail?

If he had to, would he be able to strike the fatal blow on her?

In the end, his worry was for nothing. She barely glanced at him when she’d entered the chamber, her gaze sliding over him like he was part of the furniture.

It was for the best, Cullen tried to tell himself. He could only hope that what had happened between them didn’t affect her concentration. 

But as it turned out, her Harrowing was not complicated. She showed no fear, kept her head held high and approached the lyrium with no hesitation. It was a much cleaner and quicker Harrowing than any of the few Cullen had previously attended. And while everyone had generally expected Mara to pass, there was still a feeling of relief in the room when she did. 

Irving was delighted in his young apprentice, his years of covering for her paid off and he was vindicated by her success.

Cullen and another templar carried her still sleeping form back to her dormitory. He tried very hard not to think about being so close to her. Though, when they placed her in her bunk, he lingered for a few seconds, as long as he could, drinking in the sight of her soft, sleeping face, knowing it would probably be the only time he’d ever see her like this.

 

\---

 

When Mara approached him the next day, Cullen was truly surprised. Not only did it take many mages a lot longer to recover from their Harrowings, he also thought he’d made it clear that night in the Chantry that this… whatever it was between them, was over.

But apart from looking a little tired, Mara was the same as ever. Irrepressible and confident, asking leading questions, and enjoying his flustered reactions. She made no mention of their kiss but her gaze lingered on his lips.

Cullen couldn’t understand it. He wanted to know what she was thinking, why she was doing this to him, and why she wouldn’t leave him alone. 

But he didn’t really want her to leave him alone. 

So he didn’t ask.

But she did ask him to accompany her somewhere more private, in that matter-of-fact way she had. 

And Cullen did the only thing that made sense to him: he ran away from her. What else could he do? He wanted to say yes so badly, and saying yes was a _terrible_ idea. So he ran away from the temptation, wishing he could outrun his feelings and forget the way her kiss had made him feel. 

The thought of living in this Circle with her, for years and years, so close but forbidden, began to seem like a kind of unique hell. But Cullen would be strong. He had not trained for so long to fail in his first year as a templar. She was only a woman. He would get over her.

He would persevere.

 

\---

 

And then the Grey Warden arrived.


	18. Chapter 18 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen gave up on work that day earlier than he ever had before. He’d spent time in the encampment, and it had proven to be both a good distraction from thoughts of Mara, and a productive use of his time. It was something he’d have to do more often.

But then he’d returned to Skyhold and attempted to read reports. That had been less productive, until eventually he’d given up, deciding to have an early dinner before visiting the Chantry and hoping no disasters required his attention until the morning. 

By then it was late enough to go to Mara’s room, which was easy to locate. Except… once he got there, he hesitated, lingering outside her door, as his nerves kicked in.

Whatever happened in this room would change things between them. It could be disastrous. It could be wonderful. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t want it, but if they got close, and then it went badly, he wasn’t sure how he would recover. For all that he’d thought about her, wanted her, dreamed of something like this happening – he didn’t really know the woman at all. 

But he decided he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Especially not when she’d been clear in what she wanted. And his certainty in that took most of the fear away.

He imagined her waiting for him and his stomach tightened in anticipation.

“Cullen?”

Surprised to hear Mara’s voice, Cullen spun around to see her approaching him, and he glanced back at the door. He hadn’t considered she wouldn’t actually be in her room. 

Turning back to Mara, he went to greet her but his mouth went dry as he took her in. He guessed she was just returning from the guest baths; her hair was damp and hanging in a long braid over her shoulder, darkening the fabric of the cloak she wore. Her face was a little flushed, her eyes bright. Her cloak was heavy and nondescript, covering her from neck to feet, worn for warmth and not fashion, but something about it was very enticing. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long?” Mara asked, stepping closer to him.

Cullen swallowed heavily, tongue-tied for a moment at her proximity. He decided to be honest. “I was actually summoning the courage to knock.” 

“I see.” Mara’s expression, which had been open, now hardened slightly, although he didn’t understand why. She brushed by him to unlock and open the door, filling his senses with her presence and the flowery smell of whatever soap she’d just used at the baths. “It’s not that difficult. Perhaps you should come back when you’re certain.”

As she walked through the door and went to close it, Cullen realised with a sinking feeling that this could be over before it had begun. Quickly he moved, pressing his hand against the door before she could close it in his face, careful not to crowd her.

Mara narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t move to push the door shut any further. 

“I am certain,” he growled, and she frowned before turning away and leaving the door open for him. Cullen was relieved, although a little exasperated. He followed her in, shutting the door behind him and hoping the evening wasn’t ruined before it had even started.

As Mara walked towards the fire, she shed the heavy robe she was wearing, sending it crumbling to the floor and revealing a much lighter robe underneath. One that was clearly meant for sleeping in, which was sheer on her arms and from her thighs down to her feet. 

Cullen’s mouth went even drier.

Mara continued, unhurried, and flicked her hand at the fireplace, which was built up, ready to be lit. It spluttered into flames. When she turned back to Cullen, she raised her chin high, that defiant, challenging look that was so familiar to him, as if daring him to question her casual use of magic.

He felt rooted to the ground, drinking her in from head to toe. It wasn’t even like the gown she was wearing was particularly revealing, it was just that she was so beautiful, and this seemed so intimate.

He barely registered that she’d used magic at all.

“Well then, if you’re certain, you should start taking off your clothes.” 

“What?” He blinked, taken aback. “Maker’s breath, Mara, I thought we’d _talk_.”

She wrinkled her nose, turning her head away and crossing her arms. “Then you really should just leave,” she said blankly.

Cullen was momentarily stung by her attitude, but he quickly realised something. Mara had read his uncertainty in the hall the worst way possible. She was quick to push him away. She was guarded and cynical. Probably with good cause. Perhaps… perhaps it was easier to push someone away before they could do it to her. 

It was obvious that it was easier for her to act like this than it had been for her to look him in the eye today and tell him that she’d decided to stay in Skyhold. 

But she had, and that had been a risk, Cullen appreciated that. She’d been so warm and certain earlier and now… her reaction made him sad, because he’d always hoped, when he’d thought of her over the years, that she’d found happiness. Clearly she had not. 

Cullen could walk away, he knew. Mara had given him an out and she probably expected he’d take it. 

Maybe everyone always took the out. 

But he didn’t want to, despite everything. Cullen’s own hesitancy had disappeared, and he knew it was his turn to push in this strange back and forth they had going on.

“So is that all you want from me? Sex?” He asked with an edge to his voice, and he noticed her jaw clench. "You can get that anywhere, Mara. Why am _I_ here?"

Mara shook her head, refusing to look at him. When she didn’t answer, Cullen pressed on, urgency lacing his tone. “What do you want from me? What do _you want?_ ” 

Finally she turned to him, eyes blazing. “I want everything, Cullen,” she hissed. “I told you this already. I want a life. I want a home. Maker help me, I want _you_ , I want everything with you.” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for _ten years_ and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting and I’m tired of being on my own. I–” Mara seemed to catch herself, and stopped talking. Once again she turned away from him, walking back towards the fire, and he heard her take a shuddering breath as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

Cullen stared at her back for a few seconds, his mind reeling. 

What was it Cole had said? _You both want the same._

He stared at Mara’s back for a few seconds, feeling the tension rolling off her. Cautiously, he approached, speaking softly.

“Mara.”

“You can leave if you want, Cullen.” Her head was bowed. And she sounded tired. Weary.

“ _Mara_. I don’t want to leave.” He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and he felt some of the tension leave her as she sighed at his touch. She turned towards him with some hesitancy and Cullen did what felt most natural – he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. To his surprise and pleasure, she let him, although she was still clearly tense and she kept her head down. But then, slowly, she placed her arms around his waist and he could feel her relax slightly. 

“Mara, you have to know…” Cullen trailed off as she fidgeted against him, before dropping his arms quickly, worried she was trying to get away from him. 

She pulled back from him slightly but didn’t completely move away, although her eyes remained focused on his chest. “Oh, it’s just…” One of her hands lightly grabbed a small handful of his mantle. “This is very furry.” Then she rapped her knuckles against his cuirass. “And this is very hard. It’s not really comfortable.” She paused and then raised her eyes to his, finally, and gave him a wan smile. “I’m sure there’s a joke in there, somewhere.”

“And I’m sure you don’t have to look very far for it,” Cullen replied dryly, gratified by the slight widening of her smile. “But I didn’t consider – my armour probably isn’t the most comfortable.” 

 “Not par–” A knock on the door interrupted her, startling them both. Mara recovered quickly, moving away from Cullen and picking up her heavy cloak from the ground to wrap around herself.

“I asked for tea,” she explained quietly. “Josephine is kicking me out of this room tomorrow for some diplomatic party from Orlais so I’m making the most of the important person treatment while I can.”

He nodded, and stepped to the side to get out of the way. A servant came bustling in, and immediately began to make his way to the table. But when he caught sight of the Commander, he nearly dropped the tray holding their tea. Behind him, Cullen could make out Mara’s grin at the reaction. 

“Commander! Um…” The servant placed the tray delicately on the table and turned to Mara, wide-eyed. “Mistress Amell, if you need anything else…”

She smiled at him. “No, that will be all. Thank you for bringing it.”

He nodded, shooting Cullen a furtive look, and then left – bolted, really – from the room. Mara sighed. “He’s probably going to gossip,” she said ruefully.

“Probably, but there’s little we can do about it now.” He paused, deciding not to mention just yet that after their meeting in the encampment that afternoon, there was most likely already gossip circulating. “At least you had the presence of mind to put back on your cloak.” 

“Yes, well. Can’t be showing off the goods to anyone that wanders into my room,” she said lightly as she took a seat at the table. “You were earlier than I expected.” Her voice was quiet as she began pouring tea. Her eyes flashed to his. “Were you at the door long?” 

“Not that long. I was nervous, Mara, not uncertain.” Cullen began removing his gloves and bracers, placing them carefully on a dresser near the door. There had been no reproach in his tone, but she still glanced away from him, looking chagrined. “Do you mind if I remove my armour?”

“Are you naked under it?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to always answer my questions with a question?”

Her face was angelic. “No, I don’t mind. And what do you think?”

Cullen didn’t reply, but began making quick work of his armour. He was very aware of Mara watching him as she sipped her tea, and he felt his ears burning. When he was done, he was left only in his trousers and an undershirt.

He didn’t look at Mara until he sat down opposite her at the table. She had a strange expression on her face as she gazed at him. “...What is it?”

“It just occurred to me that this is the first time I’ve ever seen you without armour on.” She leaned back in her chair, watching Cullen prepare his own tea. 

He was surprised to realise she was wrong. “Second time, actually. I was out of my armour that night you helped me.”

She blinked. “I didn’t even notice. What a wasted opportunity.” 

Cullen smiled, although now his cheeks felt hot along with his ears. It was flattering she liked how he looked, but he didn’t quite know how to appropriately respond. “So where will you be staying after tonight?”

“With the mages,” she said with a shrug, but he could tell she was displeased. 

“And you’re not happy about that?”

“I’ll get used to it,” she said dismissively. She caught his look of askance and apparently guessed his thoughts. “It’s not because it’s a mage tower, I know it’s not a Circle. I’m just not used to being around so many people.” She took a sip of tea and lifted a shoulder. “They always want to talk, it’s annoying.”

“You really do have something against talking.”

“It’s pointless, most of the time.” 

“And this?” Cullen gesture between them. “Is this pointless?”

Mara frowned. “Of course not.”

“What’s the difference between me and someone else?”

She tilted her head at him like the answer was obvious. “I like _you_.” 

Cullen bit back a smile. “Why?” 

“ _Why_?”

“Humour me.” He kept his tone light, but Cullen was beyond curious. Their relationship – if it could even be called that – was hardly normal. Any opportunity to get an insight into Mara was one he was going to take. Then a thought occurred to him and he hastened to add before she could answer, “without referencing how I look.”

Mara narrowed her eyes. “Suddenly, I can’t think of anything.”

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. Her face became pensive as her gaze drifted away from him. There was a long moment of silence, and Cullen could see she was gathering herself to answer. “Do you remember back in the Circle, all the questions I’d ask you?”

“Yes,” he replied dryly. “It was like an interrogation at times.” 

“I suppose it must have felt like that,” she murmured, and then fell silent again. When she resumed talking, it was in a soft voice. “I liked hearing about the world outside the tower. You were the only templar who spoke to me like a person, not just a mage.” Cullen felt a pang in his chest at that, knowing how much he had changed afterwards. “Even if you were just talking about templar training or about your hometown or that meal your mother would cook on feast days… I loved hearing about it.” She met his gaze again. “And you were always so very earnest.” 

He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I suppose I was.”

“It was nice. I liked that you were so… normal. It was an escape. You spoke so sincerely about it, I could picture everything you were saying.”

Prickles of shame crept up Cullen’s neck. “You know I’m not the same person I was then.” 

“I don’t think anyone is the same person they were ten years ago, Cullen, but I also don’t think you’ve changed that much, really. You joined the Inquisition to help people, like you joined the templars. Maybe you’re becoming the person you always would have been if… if awful things hadn’t happened.”

“But I–”

She ignored him. “When you told me about why you became a templar, I was both impressed and annoyed beyond belief. Annoyed because you spoke about the templars like they were a wonderful, flawless force for good, doing the Maker’s work and saving those poor mages from themselves.” She scowled. “But you were so _genuine_ about it. Which was nauseating, don’t get me wrong, but you had still chosen a difficult life in an attempt to help people. Maker knows, Kinloch was a difficult place at the best of times. And now you’ve chosen a difficult life again in an attempt to help people.” Mara levelled him with an even stare. “I’m too selfish to do that.”

Cullen felt distinctly uncomfortable. He had many regrets about his past actions, and he wasn’t convinced that he could ever make up for them. So he moved the topic onto her. “You were unselfish enough to stop a Blight.” 

She shook her head, and a hard edge came into her voice. “The Blight needed to be stopped and there was no one else to do it. Even Alistair just stepped back to let me take care of it. And then complained about the decisions I made. Stopping the Blight justified those decisions. But…” Bitterness bled into Mara’s tone. “I suppose that’s probably what Clarel and the other Wardens told themselves when she agreed to blood magic.” 

With a sigh, Mara poured them both more tea. 

“Do you miss being a Grey Warden?” He asked carefully.

“No. Never.” She was emphatic. “I was conscripted, as you know. It was another choice made for me. But… I was glad to get out of the Circle and I’ve been able to live a much freer life than most mages only because I was a Warden. I can appreciate that. What I couldn’t appreciate was how much the Order keeps secrets and putting up with years of their politics and infighting and lying.” Mara shook her head. “I’d had enough. I had done _enough_ , and I wanted more to look forward to in my life than the Calling and the miserable end of becoming a ghoul or a cannibal darkspawn breeding machine and–”

“S-sorry, _what_?” Cullen hadn’t meant to interrupt her, but… “Is that what happens to Grey Wardens?”

Mara pushed Cullen’s teacup back over to him glumly. “It’s what can happen to a female of any species. We call them broodmothers, they…” She trailed off at the look of horror on his face. Stirring some sugar into her tea, she continued blankly. “This is why I don’t talk to people. Everyone ends up looking at me like that.” 

Cullen tried to remove the horrified look he knew was on his face, but what she’d said was… “You’ve seen one of these broodmothers?” He asked quietly. 

A look came into her eye, something haunted that Cullen could recognise. “Yes,” she said, just as quiet. “I’ve killed a number of them over the years.” 

“That’s…” Cullen trailed off.

Mara watched him, and now there was a coldness about the way she spoke. “No one is quicker to criticise the Grey Wardens than me. But there’s a reason we need them.” 

“True,” he replied. He wondered what she thought of the Inquisitor’s decision to banish the Wardens, but right now he’d rather avoid talking about work. So he didn’t bring it up. He continued. “Despite that… I am glad you’re no longer a Warden.”

“That makes two of us.”

A companionable silence fell as they both mulling over their own thoughts. It was Cullen who broke it. “Did you manage to cure King Alistair?”

“Yes.” She winced. “The cure isn’t pleasant. He was unconscious for two days after. I’d warned them, but it sent the palace into a panic and I ended up in a dungeon until Alistair woke up and told them to stop being stupid. I gave him everything, all my research. Burn it, send it to Weisshaupt, I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with it. It’s in his hands. Anyway,” Mara raised a shoulder carelessly, and Cullen knew she was going to completely change the topic to a less heavy subject. “How are your family?”

He started in surprise, having not expected that. “W-what would you like to know?” He wasn’t sure if she would remember much of what he’d told her about his family ten years ago. 

Mara leaned back in her chair. “Let me see if I can remember… Mia is your older sister, and Rosalie is the youngest?” She paused. “And then Branson is also younger than you. Is that right? How are they?”

Cullen was shocked into silence for a moment. He’d told her about his siblings ten years ago and she still remembered their names. “Y-yes. They are – they are all well, although our parents did not survive the Blight. ”  

“I’m sorry about your parents,” she said softly. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I thought for a time I had lost them all. But they made it to South Reach during the Blight and managed to get a message to me eventually. It was difficult to hear about my parents but to know the rest of my family survived was like, well, it was like a miracle.” It had been one of the very few bright spots of his life since the tower, even if he had been a neglectful brother. He thought of his family often. “I must admit, I am surprised by how much you remember.”

Mara looked a little embarrassed by the astonished tone of his voice. “Honestly, Cullen, I was very good at covering up how much I liked you. But I listened with complete attention to everything you told me.” 

“And I had no idea,” he said wryly. 

“Probably for the best,” she murmured. “It was never going to end well.” 

One of her hands was fiddling with the teacups. A nervous habit, he thought. Reaching out, he gently took her hand in his, smiling at her. 

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “It was a disaster from start to finish.” 

She looked down at their hands. “And this?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

She smirked at that. “Same. But…” Mara looked up at him through her eyelashes and flipped her hand over, running her thumb over his skin, and he exhaled shakily. She continued, “I know we’re at war and you might not have time or might not want – “ She paused and frowned. 

Cullen wondered what she was going to say – _might not want me_? “Might not want…?”

“A mage,” she replied with raised eyebrows. 

“I don’t care that you’re a mage.”

Mara sighed, leaning an elbow on the arm of her chair and resting her chin in her hand. “After everything–” 

Cullen stood up, and Mara followed him with her eyes. “ _Yes_ , after everything. Believe me when I say I’ve thought about it. A lot.” He circled the table to stand beside her, and she made no movement other than to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact with him. “I’ve never been able to forget about you, and not because of bad reasons. Nothing could change how I feel about you.”

She straightened up with a sharp inhale. “And how do you feel about me?” 

He smiled and extended a hand, pulling her to him when she took it and stood. “I want you.” 

Letting Cullen keep her hand in his, Mara pressed her other hand on his chest just above his heart, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Keeping her eyes lowered, she murmured, “That simple?” 

Still smiling, he placed his other hand over hers. “I’m just putting it in terms you can understand,” he said teasingly. Her eyes flicked up to his and she smiled back, a little bashfully. It was very endearing, Cullen decided. 

“So,” she said in a low voice, pressing herself closer to him. “We’re doing this?” 

Cullen nodded, releasing her hands to grip her hips and pull her even closer. Both of her own hands travelled up his chest and came to rest on his shoulders. From thigh to chest they were pressed together. Mara’s face was tilted up towards his, emotions swirling in her eyes. When Cullen spoke, his voice was rough. 

“We’re doing this.” 


	19. Chapter 19 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Despite declarations made, and despite still holding onto each other tightly, there was still an element of hesitancy in the air. Cullen wanted to kiss her – he knew he _should_ kiss her, but the weight of expectation was falling heavily on him. Though Mara was watching him with a heavy gaze, she also made no other move beyond tightening her hands on his shoulders, so he wondered if she felt it too.

But it was Mara who made the first move in the end, and she didn’t kiss him. She lowered her head to lean against his chest, sighing into him, and her arms came around his middle. Cullen held her tight, running a hand up and down her back. To have her so close with so little layers between them felt incredible. He also sighed, a sound of contentment, bringing his head down to rest his cheek against her hair. For some time they stood together, swaying softly as if there were music playing, and Cullen’s thundering heart began to slow…

…until Mara raised her head again, and any hesitancy in either of them vanished. Her dark gaze was wanting and Cullen’s heart picked up speed and he wasn’t quite sure which one of them started the kiss, but they seemed to go from staring at each other to lips and tongues in no time at all. 

His hands pulled her closer, while her own fisted in his hair, each of them pressing against each other with abandon. All of Cullen’s nerves were set alight, and Mara’s wandering hands left him burning as they trailed up and down his body. Without realising it, she bowed backwards, accommodating Cullen as one of his hands pressed into the small of her back, while the other tangled in her hair. The whole time he kept kissing her, unaware of anything but the feel and heat of her against him, the slide of her tongue against his, and he was lost, he was so completely lost in her already. 

Mara stumbled back, and would have fallen if she wasn’t held up by Cullen, who steadied them both. He pulled her upright, still flush against him, his mouth just hovering above hers. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and their own harsh breathing; though Cullen felt like the thundering of his heart must be deafening. His eyes searched her face; she was so close, and she was so beautiful and he leaned in to kiss her again because – Maker – he felt like he was already addicted to her kisses. This kiss wasn’t quite as urgent as their first, but no less passionate. 

He decided he wanted to see something he’d desired since the moment he’d laid on Mara, so long ago. Still kissing her, he found the end of her braid down near the small of her back and pulled out the band holding it. Then, he ran his fingers through her hair, loosening it, making Mara sigh into his mouth at his gentle ministrations. Pulling back to admire his handiwork, he grinned when Mara tried to follow his mouth with her own. Her eyes, which had been closed, snapped open and they were dark with want. She didn’t speak, but it was clear she was wondering why he had stopped. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured reverently. 

Mara looked pleased, but she still replied teasingly. “That’s so cheesy.” 

Cullen’s hands were still running through her hair. It was so long and silky. He’d only ever seen it pulled away from her face before, but now it was loose in a dark halo around her; such a contrast to the pale tone of her skin. “I thought you liked how earnest I was.” His hands left her hair to run up her sides, spanning her ribcage, relishing every touch. “And I thought it was time I returned some of your compliments.”

She laughed, a little breathlessly. To his surprise, she stepped out of his grip, but it was only to once again shrug the heavy robe off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She raised a shoulder at him. “Too hot,” she said mischievously. 

Cullen swallowed, taking her all in: the wild hair, the well-kissed lips, the curve of her hip, the long legs under that sheer fabric… 

When his eyes raised back up to hers, he could tell she was doing her own perusal of him and he realised that the trousers he was wearing were doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal. As Mara’s eyes dragged up his body, he could tell she wasn’t bothered by that though.

Actually, judging by the way she threw herself at him, she was bothered – but not in a bad way. Cullen groaned at the feel of her breasts pressed against him and her hands sliding down his back to grab his backside. He bucked into her, their lips again meeting, and her hands were once again on the move, except this time they travelled up and under his shirt. Nails gently scraped along his back and around to his abs, and from there her hands began exploring; every muscle, every ridge, making their way up his chest. From there, she flattened her hands over him and pushed slightly. Cullen withdrew from her a little and she smirked, pushing once again. 

He took a step backwards and let her manoeuvre him to where she wanted – which is where he’d guessed: the bed. When Cullen’s legs hit the back of it, he paused and detangled himself from Mara so he could pull his shirt over his head.

Once again her eyes raked him over. She took a deep breath before she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and Cullen’s eyes zeroed in on it. Before he could do anything, Mara moved again, crowding him to encourage him back onto the bed. 

He went willingly with a smile, scooting backwards so he was lying fully on the large, comfortable bed – far more comfortable than his own was, if he was being honest. Mara clambered on right after him, and with no hesitation settled herself on him, pulling up her long nightrobe to straddle his waist, exposing her legs and creamy thighs to him. He could feel her hot and wet centre right above his erection; the delicious friction of her movement on him sent bolts of pleasure through him.

But the realisation that she wore nothing underneath, and that only the thin fabric of his trousers separated them, startled him, even through his arousal. Without thinking, his hands grabbed her hips to still her, and his eyes clenched shut, a flash of pain crossing his head. Breathing harshly, he tried to calm himself down and forget the sudden spike of anxiety.

He wanted this. He did. But…

He opened his eyes to the sight of a beautiful woman, straddling him, wanting him. A woman he’d wanted for years. 

And yet this still felt like it was too quick.

He could feel the headache getting worse.

“Cullen?” Mara’s voice was rough and her face was flushed but he could still hear the concern in her voice. “Are you alright?”

“I…” He started and then stopped, not knowing what to say, trying to catch his bearings. His hands dropped from her hips to clench beside him on the bed and he again wrenched his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then Mara gently eased herself up off him and clambered off the bed. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed at the sudden lack of contact. To say he was feeling conflicted was a gross understatement.

Opening his eyes, Cullen saw Mara moving around the room, blowing out candles. She left only a few lit, and with the glow from the fire, the room was cast into a warm and cosy dimness, but it was still bright enough to see. She then returned to the bed, sitting on the edge of it but turning her upper body to face him. Cullen couldn’t read the expression on her face, but she was watching him carefully. Slowly, like she was giving him time to tell her to stop, she reached forward and brushed some hair that had fallen into his face away. Her touch was so gentle, and Cullen sighed, turning his face into her hand. 

Mara turned more fully on the bed, now sitting sideways alongside him. “Is it a headache?” She asked quietly. 

“No. Well, yes, but no, that’s not..” With a huff at himself, Cullen sat up. Mara let her hand drop and Cullen took it in his own, their fingers intertwining, resting on the bed. 

Her gaze rested on their hands, but she now had that blank look on her face that Cullen was beginning to dread. “Should you go back to your room?” She asked carefully.

“No!” His grip tightened on her hand. Cullen’s head hurt, but it was manageable, and he knew he needed to try and explain as best he could. “It’s just… I was overwhelmed. Things were moving far quicker than I expected and it suddenly seemed like too much. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to but just not… yet.”

“Oh.” Mara’s gaze drifted away, and he searched her face eagerly, trying to read her reaction but she wasn’t giving him much. “You don’t have to apologise.” 

“Truly, I–”

“ _Cullen_. It’s fine.” There was impatience in her voice now, and her eyes snapped back to his, exasperated. “Don’t get me wrong, if you wanted to lie with me tonight you’d have heard no complaints from me. But I wasn’t expecting it and I don’t… that did…escalate quickly but…I… it’s not – “ now it was her turn to huff, frustrated at herself. “I was worried that you had changed your mind,” she finished quickly, tossing her head to the side, a cascade of hair following her.  

“Changed my mind?” Cullen asked, surprised. 

“About…me. This.” She waved her free hand about absently. “ _Us_.”

Tightening his grip on her hand, Cullen leaned forward. “No,” he growled. “Never.” 

She turned to him again, but her eyes stayed downcast. “I thought for a moment you were using a headache as an excuse to leave. That was unfair; I’m sorry.”

“And I thought you’d be angry that I’d stopped: that was also unfair.” 

Their eyes met and she raised her eyebrows. “Ah. It seems we are both terrible at this.” 

He smiled in agreement. “We can at least only get better at it. Hopefully.” Mara’s returning smile was small, but there was still clear uncertainty there. He tugged lightly at her hand. “Will you… will you lie down? We can just talk?” 

“Your head…?”

“Hurts, but it’s bearable. It helps that the room is dimmer. It won’t be as bad as the last one you saw.”

“Are you sure, Cullen?”

“ _Yes_ ,” now he was the impatient one. “Please. I’d… I’d like to hold you.” 

“Oh. Alright.” Even in the darkness of the room, Cullen could see a blush stain her cheeks as she moved towards him, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of that. He was surprised such a simple statement made her blush but… she was probably going to continue to surprise him. 

He moved across the bed, making room for her and pulling back the blanket, and she carefully arranged herself beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and curling into him. He drew the blanket up over them and Mara placed a hand on his stomach. “I hope you don’t want your shirt back, because I’m not moving now.” 

Cullen laughed quietly. “I think I’ll be fine.” 

It took them some time to settle against each other and grow comfortable. Cullen couldn’t remember the last time he’d lain beside someone like this and he had a sneaking suspicion it was the same for Mara. But eventually they did settle down, and as they lay in a comfortable silence, Cullen appreciated every press of her curves and softness against him. It flamed his desire again, but he content to wait. When he tightened his arm around her, Mara’s face tilted up towards his, as if she sensed he was going to say something. He felt her warm breath against his face as he gathered his thoughts.

“We do have time to… get better at this. I am, perhaps, being selfish. We are at war, after all.” 

Mara raised herself up on an elbow to bring their faces more level. “Being at war is all the more reason. Corypheus could kill us all tomorrow.”

Cullen gave a shocked snort in disbelief at what she’d just said. “A cheery thought, Mara.”

One shoulder gave a delicate shrug. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I think the Inquisition will win. But regardless, Cullen… you deserve happiness.” 

He looked into her face, seeing only sincerity, and he swallowed against a sudden emotion rising in his chest. “Mara, you do too.” 

She turned her head away but didn’t speak. Cullen wasn’t going to pretend he understood what she was thinking. He didn’t know half of what she’d gone through since she’d left the Circle or just what made her so guarded. But she did deserve happiness, as did he – something he only recently could admit to himself. 

Cullen touched her face gently, and her eyes swung back to his; they were fathomless depths in the room that grew ever darker as the fire went down. When he leaned up, she met him halfway. This kiss was sweet: hopeful, he thought. Mara pulled away first, but only minutely. Carefully she cradled his jaw, and she brushed her nose against his, before kissing him again, a smile on her face.

 

\---

 

Cullen awoke with a start, his heart racing. He immediately registered that he wasn’t in his own bed, that there was something wrong, that there was _someone_ …

As the haziness and confusion of sleep lifted, so too did the details of his nightmare fade away, and Cullen remembered where he was and who he was with. He relaxed back onto his pillow, turning on his side to face Mara, who was still sleeping. The fire and candles had long since burned out, but he judged by the weak light peeking in through the curtains that it was just after sunrise. 

He was grateful his dreaming hadn’t woken her up. She was sprawled on her front, legs akimbo under the blanket, one arm under the pillow and the other stretched out towards him. He guessed it had been resting across his stomach until he’d woken. Her face was mostly concealed behind her hair, which was….everywhere, as far as Cullen could see. 

They had spent a few hours kissing and talking before falling asleep against each other. 

It had turned into one of the best nights of Cullen’s life.

He knew he would have to get out of bed soon and get back to real life, but for now he enjoyed this quiet moment of contentment, an oasis in the chaos of this war. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out to Mara and carefully pulled the hair away from her face, making sure to be gentle. His fingers grazed her face and she stirred, eyes opening. He felt her tense for a few seconds before relaxing.

“Good morning,” he rumbled, voice still gritty after sleeping. He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he had woken her.

She blinked a few times, before a slow, sleepy smile spread across her face that was worth everything to see. No, thought Cullen, she didn’t seem to mind. 

“Morning,” she murmured, and reached out to wrap her arm around him and pull herself against him. Cullen returned the hug, drawing her close, breathing her in. With her head tucked under his chin, he could feel her breath against his skin. What soon followed was her lips pressing against his neck, working their way up to his chin. He closed his eyes, just allowing himself to feel and enjoy the moment. When her lips finally met his, he responded eagerly. 

Definitely a good morning. 

 

\---

 

When they finally rose, Mara regarded herself in the mirror that sat on top of the dresser in the room. Running her fingers through her hair, she stated mildly, “I look like a hedge mage.”

Cullen, who was pulling on his armour, looked over at her and her tangled mane of hair. “You are a mage and you do look like you’ve been living in a hedge, yes.” 

Her head snapped around at him. “Never expected you to turn out sassy,” she muttered. 

“Life is full of surprises,” he replied in a dry tone. 

“That,” she said archly as she picked up a brush and began combing her hair, “is very true.”

Cullen finished dressing and watched her for a moment as she frowned at the mirror, working the knots out, before making his way to stand behind her. He resisted the urge to take the brush out of her hands and comb her hair himself – that was a ridiculous, silly idea. Their eyes met in the mirror and he spoke to her solemnly. “I’m sorry about your hair.” 

“Don’t be. It can be brushed out and anyway, I don’t want to discourage last night’s behaviour in future.” 

He smirked, filing that piece of information away. “Good to know.” Cullen glanced toward the window and suppressed a sigh. “I’m afraid I have to go, I’m already running late.” 

Mara nodded. “Of course.” 

She stood and turned to face him and Cullen, on impulse, picked up one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured against her skin, “for the pleasure of your company last night.” Mara’s eyes widened at the gesture and his words, and she looked a little astonished. “I hope we can do it again soon.” 

Mara recovered herself. “Oh, I daresay we can.” A smile spread across her face, one full of promise and it was with extreme reluctance that Cullen tore himself away, forcing himself to focus on his work, and not the beautiful woman still sitting in her sleeping robe, combing her hair.


	20. Chapter 20 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

“He’s making me a Grey Warden.”

Cullen stared at Mara, who had marched up to him where he was stationed just outside the library, anger written all over her. He frowned. “I thought the Grey Warden was only looking for mages for the king’s army?” 

Mara was clearly seething, but she remained silent and stepped back as a group of apprentices passed them, trying to get herself under control. When they were alone again, she glared up at him, and Cullen wondered what he’d done. Then, unexpectedly, she grabbed his forearm and began marching away, trying to pull him along with her. 

“W-wait!” He followed along for a short while before he tried to pull his arm from her, but she didn’t let go. “What are you doing?”

Mara suddenly dropped her hand, before taking a sharp turn and opening a door and stepping inside. Cullen hesitantly followed her. It was a large storage room, and it was empty. She closed the door behind them and then let loose.

“He’s making me a Grey Warden!” She said again, at a higher volume. “I’m leaving, Cullen. Forever.” 

He swore he felt his heart stop. She couldn’t leave. He couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day. “You… you don’t get a choice?”

She shook her head, pacing up and down the room. “No! Grey Wardens can conscript. I have no choice. I have to go.”

His head was reeling. “When?”

“Today. Now. The Grey Warden wants to leave immediately. He’s worried about what’s happening down in Ostagar…” Mara trailed off and stopped pacing. “I could kill Jowan, this is his fault!” 

Cullen didn’t know what had happened, but he knew he had never seen her so upset or agitated. He didn’t think he’d ever actually seen her upset or agitated at _all_ before. All he wanted to do was make her feel better. So for the first time since he’d known her, he touched her first. He placed both his hands on her shoulders. He felt her slump and her head lifted up to look him in the eye. “Mara,” he whispered. “I…” What could he say? There was nothing he could say or do to stop this. 

But if this was the last time he would ever see her, if she was leaving the Circle forever, then he was going to take this final moment. His hands slid down to her hips pushing her back into the wall, and she let out a squeak of surprise. But when his lips met hers, she immediately responded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing herself against him.  

He had never kissed anyone like this before – not with such all-consuming passion. Her lips were so soft, eagerly responding to his own. His senses were enveloped in her, and he cursed his armour because he couldn’t possibly get close enough to her in it. He slid his hands up her sides, frustrated by his gloves, and was aware of her own hands roaming about his armour, seeking skin. Eventually, they found their way to his hair, like they had last time, and he groaned into her mouth at her touch. 

Mara pulled her mouth away from his, gasping for breath, but still holding onto him tightly. Cullen moved his kisses to her neck, and she shivered against him, letting his lips explore her before pulling him back up to her mouth again. With a moan, she arched herself against him and then hissed, pulling back slightly.

Cullen opened his eyes, taking in her flushed face and red lips, wondering what was wrong. “Damn your armour! Take it off!” 

In his haze of lust, Cullen didn’t get a chance to reply before another voice sounded behind his back.

“I don’t recommend you do that.” 

He felt Mara tense under his hands, and he let go of her to quickly turn and see who was there. It was one of the Tranquil, staring at them with a mild expression. Cullen wondered how long he’d been there. 

Cullen took a deep breath and a step away from Mara. “We– I…”

“Sexual relations between templars and mages are forbidden.” The Tranquil’s gaze was steady and nonjudgemental, his voice unceasingly placid. “If you do not stop, I will have to report you to the Knight Commander.”

“No!” snapped Cullen at the same time Mara swore at the other mage. “We’ve…” he glanced back at Mara who was glaring at the Tranquil in clear irritation. “We’ve stopped.” 

“That is good.” The Tranquil peered around Cullen to catch Mara’s eyes. “The Grey Warden is looking for you. I hear you are to leave the Tower.”

“Yes,” she said icily. “I’m going now.”

The Tranquil nodded. “I wish you a safe journey.” Then, he stepped over to one of the shelves and picked up a box before leaving.

After the door swung shut behind him, the silence in the room was deafening. Cullen was aware that he had again failed and given in to temptation. The circumstances should not have been an excuse, and he could feel the sting of shame begin to fill him. He turned back to Mara, who was staring at the door the Tranquil had just walked through with a blank expression. 

With a shake of her head, she pushed herself away from the wall, brushing past Cullen without looking at him and walking towards the door. 

“Mara?” He asked hesitantly.

“Well, as fun as this was, it seems I really must be going.” Her voice was still cold and she remained standing with her back to him. With a glance over her shoulder at him, briefly meeting his eyes, she said, “Goodbye, Cullen.”

And then she left. 

For a few moments, Cullen stood, uncertain. He wanted to follow her – but then what? He asked her to stay? She couldn’t. He kissed her again? He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything except make everything worse. 

She was _leaving_. 

Eventually, he unrooted himself as that realisation sank into him and made his way quickly out of the storeroom, heading towards the Tower entrance. When he reached it, there was already a small crowd gathered. Life in the Circle could be monotonous, and this was something unusual to gawk at. Both mages and templars had come to see the Grey Warden and his recruit off. 

Cullen spotted Mara immediately. It was strange to see her dressed in a travelling cloak, covering the robes that all the mages wore. By her side was Irving, talking to her intently. She still had that blank expression on her face. He could see the Grey Warden in discussion with Greagoir. 

Four templars stepped forward and began to heave the heavy doors of the Tower open and Cullen stepped through the crowd, knowing this would be his last chance to see her. 

Mara moved away from Irving, scanning the group assembled. Her eyes caught his and widened slightly. She paused and for those few seconds there was nothing else, just Mara with an open expression – the most open he’d ever seen from her. He wished he knew what she was thinking. Then her gaze dropped, and she turned and followed the Grey Warden out of the Tower.

The crowd began to disperse. The doors were closed. 

Still Cullen stood there, a feeling he couldn’t identify settling in the pit of his stomach. 

Greagoir approached him, looking at him speculatively. “Probably for the best that she’s gone, wouldn’t you say?” Without waiting for a response he strode away, calling back to Cullen. “You should get back to your duties.”

His duties. His vows. His promises made to the Order and himself. 

He’d broken them all. 

Perhaps Greagoir was right – this was for the best. 

Maybe Cullen would believe that when it stopped feeling like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.


	21. Chapter 21 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

As soon as Cullen left Mara’s room, he was pulled straight back into troop movements and reports and meetings and a thousand issue that demanded his attention. All the while, thoughts of the previous evening intruded – but they were not unwelcome.

When he was leaving the War Room late that afternoon, the hall seemed to be more chaotic than usual. As he passed slowly through, he kept an ear out, curious and more than a little wary he was the subject of gossip after his little display with Mara in the encampments. They gossiped about much less, after all.

Near him, a circle of three women were speaking in loud whispers.

“– _such_ a scene! And in the library, of all places.” 

“Mages, though,” an Orlesian voice replied, “Their brains are probably addled from living in their little Circles and using all that magic.”

“Shh! Madame de Fer might hear you.” Another voice hissed – quite sensibly, Cullen thought.

The first woman tossed her head dismissively. She noticed Cullen, and she smirked at him before turning back towards her friends. She said something, but her voice was now too low for him to make out. But he could see the other two woman briefly look at him, before they laughed and put their heads closer together, whispering.

With his ears burning, Cullen picked up his pace, pushing through the throng. Near the door, writing away as he always was, was Varric, who glanced up as Cullen passed, calling out a greeting.

“Curly, I’m impressed.” 

“Excuse me?” Cullen didn’t mean to sound impatient, but he wanted to get away from the press of people, and kept edging towards the door, head turned towards Varric.

Varric grinned at him. “I never expected you’d be the one to have an old flame turn up at Skyhold, especially one so famous.”

With a sigh, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling eyes on him and suspecting people were leaning in to listen to their conversation. “It’s… complicated.” He looked away, unwilling to discuss it, especially not in a place so public.

“Always is,” Varric’s reply was sympathetic. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pry. But all this stuff with the Hero's sister makes me think I should be writing a book about her.”

Cullen’s head snapped back towards the dwarf. Her _what_? “What do you mean, her sister?” 

“You didn’t hear?” Varric was surprised, but then looked past Cullen. “I suppose you’ve been in the War Room all day. Apparently, there was an emotional reunion between the Hero of Ferelden and her long lost sister.”

“ _What_?” Her _sister_? The sister she’d told him she’d never met before? How was that possible?

“Upstairs in the library.” He nodded vaguely towards the people in the hall. “Caused quite a scene, everyone’s talking about it.” 

“That seems too incredible to be true,” Cullen mused.

“Oh, I don’t know. We see a lot of weird shit here. I wouldn’t even put this in the top five.” Cullen’s lips twitched. Varric had a point. “Anyway, Curly, I don’t know more than that. You should ask Dorian, he saw it all go down.”

He shook his head. “I’ll find out from Mara herself.” He couldn’t help but smile as he said it, because it was such a simple thing, but she was here, and they were making an attempt at a relationship. He didn’t have to ask anyone else about her and he didn’t have to hide what they were doing. It was a freeing feeling. 

After taking his leave from Varric, Cullen retreated to his office, where he read reports and made plans. He wanted to seek out Mara, but he guessed she was with her sister. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt. 

Her sister. It seemed too farfetched to be true, and his mind kept wandering back to it. 

As evening drew in, Cullen decided to give up on work for the day and get some food. Mara was still on his mind. She’d told him that he’d see her soon, but how soon? Would she come to his office? Was she settling in with the rest of the mages?

It was impossible for him not to replay the events of the previous night. He still couldn’t quite understand his panic when things had escalated between them, but knew it had been the right decision to put a stop to it. And in the end, it hadn’t seemed to bother Mara, once he’d explained. They’d spoken into the late hours, curled up against each other in the dark, and it had been so intimate. A lot of the walls Mara had built up around herself seemed to have fallen away in their safe cocoon, and she’d kissed him softly and made him laugh and he…

…he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

 

\---

 

It wasn’t until the next evening that he saw her, entering his office to find her waiting, perched on his desk, chatting with a scout who was gazing at her with stars in his eyes. 

At Cullen’s entrance, Mara straightened up and beamed at him. He smiled back, and the scout looked between the two of them, enthralled, before he remembered why he was here.

“Commander, ser!” He gestured to a pile of papers on his desk. “These are the reports you requested.”

Cullen nodded, not taking his eyes off Mara. “Good. Thank you.” He stepped closer, expecting the scout to leave, but the man had turned back towards Mara. 

“My mother thinks King Alistair is very handsome. She lives in Denerim now, so she sees him sometimes, when he goes among the people. Says he’s very generous, and always smiling.” Mara’s eyes met Cullen’s with an almost beseeching look, and Cullen got the impression she’d been listening to this man talk for some time. “What was he like, back in the Blight?” The scout was eager. “Is he–”

Cullen loudly cleared his throat, and the scout fell silent and turned back to him, having seemingly forgotten his presence. “Was there anything else?” Cullen asked pointedly, throwing in a glare for good measure. 

“N-no, ser.” He glanced back at Mara almost forlornly. “Thank you for speaking to me.” She gave him a small smile in return and he slunk out, glancing back at her as he left. 

The door had barely swung shut when Mara was in his arms, her hands on his face, her lips seeking his. He held her to him, kissing her back eagerly, walking her backwards until Mara was leaning against the desk again, She arched into him and even though he was wearing armour, it brought back the memory of how she’d felt against him two nights ago.

Eventually, she detached herself from him, breathing heavily, but kept her arms around his neck. “Hi,” she murmured. 

He grinned. “Hi.” Pressing one further chaste kiss to her lips, Cullen then asked, “Was he here long?” 

“About twenty minutes. He did not stop talking. I thought I was going to lose my mind.” 

“We have a lot of Fereldens here who remember the Blight and what you did. They think very highly of you.” 

Mara shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “How was your day?” She asked, changing the subject.

“It was fine, but I was hoping to see you. I heard about your sister, Mara.” 

“Oh,” she was surprised. “That was quick.” She paused, and then looked up at him, with an expression so open and earnest that he’d never seen her wear before. “I still can’t really believe it,” she whispered.

“What happened?” Cullen couldn’t deny his curiosity. 

“I’m sharing a room with a mage from Hasmal. She was showing me where our room was when she mentioned that there was an Amell in the Hasmal Circle too, and that I looked liked her. She asked if we were related.” Her voice cracked. “She told her name was Leah and that she’d come with them to Skyhold.” 

Cullen held her tight, and Mara continued, voice thick with emotion. “I went to find her, and she was in the library, and she…” Mara swallowed heavily, eyes filled with unshed tears. “When she saw me, she called me sister and hugged me. She knew who I was.” 

Cullen kissed her forehead. “I’m so happy you found her,” he said gently. 

Mara shook her head. “It’s still so unbelievable.” 

“What’s she like?”

“She’s… she’s shorter than me,” Mara said with a broken laugh. “Her hair is the same colour, but it’s much shorter. But she looks like me. And she’s… she’s so sweet. Everyone seems to love her. She’s lovely.” Mara shook her head. “You know, she told me when she told people that that Hero of Ferelden was her sister, they told her to stop making things up. But she knew about me. She… she said she’d never expected to find me at Skyhold, but now that she was out of the Circle she wanted to try find her family.” Mara’s voice was distant now. “Our father died not long after she was born, apparently. I don’t remember him at all. She doesn’t know what happened to the rest.” 

“I’m sorry about your father,” Cullen said gravely.

“I knew he must be dead, as our mother must be, but it was… difficult to hear,” she said quietly. “The mage I was going to share a room with offered to swap so I could share with Leah.” She said the name with relish. “I was going to come see you last night but we were talking.”

“That’s understandable.” Cullen cupped her face, taking her in. She still looked shocked by everything. 

“I feel…” Mara started and hesitated. 

“What?”

“It’s too good to be true,” she whispered. “I’m waiting for something bad to happen.” She tensed up under his arms, as if afraid by just admitting her fear that it would happen. 

He remembered her reaction from the other night, when he’d told her she deserved happiness, so he didn’t repeat the sentiment, unsure if it would be welcome. Cullen didn’t think there was any way to convince her with words, so he didn’t say anything. He just held her tight.

 

\---

 

Cullen met Leah Amell the next day, when she and Mara joined him for lunch. His eyes travelled from Mara to her sister – all it took was once glance to see that they were related. They had similar faces and the exact same shade of dark hair and eyes, although Leah was shorter and also less sinewy looking than Mara – hardly surprising for a mage who lived in a Circle versus one who fought and lived life mostly on the road, as Mara did.

Leah was quicker to smile than Mara, and far more open. She waved at and greeted any number of people as they ate and she’d only been at Skyhold for a few weeks. She didn’t have Mara’s edge; instead, she was much softer. There was a warmth about her that was clear as soon as you met her, while Mara’s own warmth was well hidden. Cullen wasn’t sure if Mara spoke to many people aside from him and Leliana, and those she worked with. And Leah was quick like Mara, obviously intelligent, and she told Cullen she was a Knight-Enchanter, meaning that she was also a powerful mage that could take care of herself. She wasn’t at all intimidated by him – not by the fact that he used to be a templar, or his past at Kirkwall, or by his status as Commander of the Inquisition. She was candid and upfront like her sister – though in an admittedly nicer way.

Cullen liked her, and he was so happy for Mara that she’d found a part of her family. 

It was interesting watching them both interact. There was a hesitancy about them both, which was to be expected. Despite their relation, they were still strangers to each other. But Mara looked at Leah like she expected her to disappear, and Leah looked at Mara like she hung the moon. He wondered what it must have been like for her to hear of the Warden who had stopped the Blight, the mage who was called a hero, with the knowledge that it was the sister she’d never known.

When Dorian joined them for lunch, dropping gracefully onto the bench beside Cullen and giving the women a winning smile, Leah turned to Mara, her mouth an ‘o’ of incredulity and archly asked, “Do you know _all_ the good looking men here, Mara?” 

Mara was surprised by the forward question, while Dorian visibly preened, but Cullen just laughed. 

They were definitely sisters. 

 

\---

 

Cullen’s life fell back into its routine, but this time there were some changes. Most of his time was still taken up with the Inquisition. There were endless things that required his attention, and a thousand tiny emergencies going on at any one time. But now his work was broken up by not only his friends, but also by Mara. He didn’t see her as much as he’d like – she was just as busy as him. Spirit Healers were always in great demand. Occasionally a report would come by his way that mentioned her, or he’d be doing the round of the encampments and encounter her. The soldiers liked her. That was unsurprising, thought Cullen, she was a beautiful woman who could heal them and they took her cool beside manner in stride and learned to follow her instructions.

He didn’t get to see her every day, and sometimes, it would be a rushed lunch or dinner together before they were pulled back to their stations. She’d visit his office in the evenings, one of the few places they could have privacy, and even then her time was split between Cullen and her newly found sister.

Occasionally Mara ended up in his bed, although the physical side of their relationship progressed slowly. Cullen knew Mara was more than willing to go further than their kisses and tentative exploration of each others bodies, but Cullen still wanted to wait as they got to know each other better. She took it in stride though, content to go at his pace. Despite her suggestive comments and sometimes outrageous flirting, she never pushed. 

Sometimes Cullen would go to sleep alone and wake up to find her sprawled across him, occasionally fully dressed, magic still clinging to her. 

He cherished every moment they had together, even the ones in which they were arguing. 

Most of the time, Cullen wasn’t even sure how the arguments started, but he suspected that at least some of them were down to Mara just looking for a fight. He could almost see it sometimes; a tension around her that made her lash out. He knew it was at least partially the stress of living at Skyhold getting to her, and she confessed she found it difficult to be around so many people all the time, and that she sometimes wished to be completely alone again. 

And then there were other times she got that blank look in her eyes, and she’d stare out the window at nothing for a long time. Cullen sometimes thought she would just float out and away from him forever. 

And then sometimes she’d look at him the way she looked at Leah, like she couldn’t believe he was here and it was too good to be true. 

Like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Because despite everything, she was still wary. And Cullen still wondered, even with her sister here, if she’d leave. He was already beginning of think of the possibility of life beyond the war and Corypheus, and how he hoped she would feature in it. But he worried about overwhelming her. 

He couldn’t even ask her to stay with him every night, if she so wanted. 

Despite the wariness of both of them, they grew closer, and the times she did let down her guard, his heart swelled to see her so: smiling and warm and happy. When she beamed at him, and kissed him and ran her fingers tenderly along his face, he hoped that she could move past whatever was holding her back.


	22. Chapter 22 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Blackwall disappeared with no word.

It didn’t take long to find out where he’d gone – Val Royeaux – and the Inquisitor immediately took off after the wayward Warden, throwing any number of plans into disarray. Cullen had never seen her look so distressed. Trevelyan, known for her impeccable composure, couldn’t hide it. She dashed after Blackwall with the fastest horse in the stable, and only days later the truth came out.

Blackwall was no Warden. He was an imposter; a murderer named Thom Rainier. 

The Inquisitor’s note was brief and impersonal, giving lie to the turmoil all three of her advisors knew she was feeling. She requested Cullen’s presence immediately, and so he hardly had a chance to take his leave of Mara before he was on the road, riding hard for Val Royeaux himself.

He was beyond furious. 

As he sat in the prison of Val Royeaux and listened to the distant sounds of Trevelyan talking to Blackwall in his cell, Cullen tried to get himself under control. His hands were shaking and he had a crippling pain in his gut. Trying to conceal the trembling from the Val Royeaux guards in the room, he took a clumsy drink of water from the cup on the table in front of him, hoping it would ease his dry throat and cracked lips. 

He wasn’t sure if this particularly bad episode was due to his anger at Blackwall’s betrayal – a man he had considered a friend – or the last few of days of hard travel and little sleep. 

Either way, it was hard for him to keep his composure. 

Blindly he stared at the report resting on the table and concentrated on his breathing and the distant sounds of the Inquisitor’s voice. By the time she returned to him, Cullen had himself under control enough for Trevelyan not to notice. 

As he took her in, he realised she might not even have noticed if he’d been screaming on the floor. Trevelyan’s anger was sharp and cold; an icy fury. She was clearly distracted talking to Cullen, obviously hurt by Blackwall’s betrayal. Cullen had no idea how deep her relationship with Blackwall went, or if it was even much of a relationship at all, and he felt awkward –  he didn’t want to pry but he also didn’t want her to think he didn’t care. He respected the Inquisitor a great deal and seeing her in pain made his anger at Blackwall grow.

Trevelyan, in her hurt, didn’t see what was immediately obvious to Cullen – the ramifications this could have on the Inquisition. They had used Grey Warden treaties with Blackwall’s authority. They’d banished the Grey Wardens after Adamant because of the risk of corruption but their so-called ‘good’ Grey Warden was anything but. If the rumours of the Inquisitor’s relationship had spread far, it could look bad. When Cullen mentioned this, minus the part about her relationship, Trevelyan’s face turned grey.

Blackwall was left in Val Royeaux, and he and the Inquisitor journeyed back to Skyhold. They rode hard to make it back as quickly as possible. The entire time, an icy shroud of bitterness surrounded the Inquisitor. She spoke little, shrugging away any attempts at comfort or conversation Cullen offered. 

He had no idea what she was thinking, and he was beyond relieved when they reached Skyhold. Leliana and Josephine quickly came to meet them as they dismounted their horses. From their faces, it was clear the messages they’d sent ahead had been received. 

The Inquisitor’s face was drawn as she considered her advisors. “We need a War Council – an hour?”

It was the last thing Cullen wanted to do, but he knew it was necessary. So he quickly bathed, relieved to get the stink of travel off him, and ate while standing in his office as he listened to some reports from a scout. 

As he made his way to the War Room, he thought about Mara, repressing a sigh. 

He was hardly in the great hall when a runner cheerfully passed him some letters, all of which were apparently urgent. Cullen scowled, but flicked through them quickly as he sidestepped the nobles and other loiterers. 

Entering the War Room, he looked up and halted when he saw Mara standing beside Leliana – like he’d conjured her up with his thoughts. An involuntary smile crossed his face, but her returning one was weak. Cullen picked up on the tension in the room and his stomach twisted as he realised why she was here.

Mara was not going to appreciate being asked to get involved in Warden business. 

“Now that Commander Cullen is here, I’d like to begin,” began Trevelyan briskly, turning to Mara. “We have a situation, Warden Commander.” Mara’s face hardened at the use of the title. “And we need your help.”

“I made it clear I’m no longer Warden Commander.” Mara’s reply was mild but Cullen knew this was going nowhere good.

Trevelyan sighed. “Blackwall–”

“Your fake Warden?” 

There was a beat of silence, and when she spoke again, there was repressed anger in Treveylan’s voice. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. Any actual Warden paying attention to him would know.” 

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell us this?” Josephine asked, aghast.

“No.” Mara folded her arms, eyes on the Inquisitor. “For all I knew, you might already have known. If you did, it most likely didn’t matter. You and Blackwall are clearly… close, Inquisitor. For some reason, you obviously think highly of him.” Trevelyan’s hands flexed and Cullen could see she was just getting angrier. “I have no idea why anyone would want to impersonate a Warden. Mostly I just didn’t want to get involved.” 

“But your duty to the Inquisition–”

“Has nothing to do with Blackwall,” interrupted Mara sharply. 

Trevelyan sighed, leaning on the table. She looked exhausted. “He is currently in prison in Val Royeaux for murders he committed before he took the name Blackwall.” 

Mara looked at the Inquisitor expectantly, waiting.

“We used the Grey Wardens treaties under his authority.” The Inquisitor rested her fists on the table, clenching and unclenching them.

“Ah.” Mara nodded, and understanding crossed her face.

“Is that all you have to say?” Treveylan asked, frustrated. 

“It will certainly be another hit to the Grey Warden’s reputation in Orlais,” Mara said blandly. “And, I suppose, the Inquisition’s. Why have you called me here about it, Inquisitor?” 

Cullen had no doubt that Mara knew exactly what the Inquisitor wanted, but she was going to make them spell it out.

Trevelyan met her eye, and spoke firmly. “I want you to grant us the authority. Your name still carries weight.”

“I don’t have that authority anymore.” 

“Only because you reject it. The title hasn’t been stripped from you.”

Mara gave a bitter laugh. “And that is only because I have to go to Weisshaupt for it to happen. I’d rather go back into the Deep Roads than go there ever again. The First Warden knows my feelings. I asked him to appoint another Commander for Ferelden. I gave him recommendations. As you see, he did not. It’s not my problem.”

“But the fact remains, you still have the title. More importantly, the title of _Hero of Ferelden_ can’t be taken from you.”

“True enough, and when I spoke of titles to you, Inquisitor, that was the one I mentioned. Not that of Warden Commander. I do not want to get involved in Warden business.” The edge in Mara’s voice was growing sharper.

“But there will be no repercussions to you! You joined the Inquisition, this is how you help it.”

“Inquisitor, I help the Inquisition by healing the people that are fighting and supporting you to allow them to keep doing so. I’m very good at it. A lot of people are still alive because of me. I don’t help by throwing around a title I’ve loudly rejected. Find another Warden.” 

There was a beat of silence and the Inquisitor raised herself up to glare at Mara. “There _are_ no other Wardens.”

“Exiling them was a hasty choice, wasn’t it?” Mara’s voice was as cold as Cullen had ever heard it. 

Trevelyan’s chin rose high in the air, and she took on what Cullen thought of as her haughty noble look. “It was a necessary choice – the Wardens posed a too great a risk.” 

Josephine now intervened with delicacy. “Even if there were other Wardens available, we feel it would be better to use a Warden – even if a former Warden – such as yourself. With the backlash the situation with Blackwall will undoubtedly have, combined with the recent events involving the Wardens, your endorsement carries much more weight.”

“It’s all about saving face, isn’t it.” Mara stated sourly.

“Please, Mara,” Leliana said softly. “This could be a disaster for the Inquisition. The Wardens go to any length to stop a Blight. Surely you can understand the lengths we will go to stop Corypheus.” 

Cullen had remained silent in the discussion, but now he spoke up. “If she does not wish to, we must respect her decision.” All eyes in the room flicked towards him, but Cullen didn’t take his own off Mara. “What’s more is that we should not need to make reparations for doing what we had to do. Perhaps these people have forgotten what is at stake.” 

A fleeting look of gratitude crossed Mata’s face before she steeled herself again. Cullen kept his own face passive. He knew very well the best thing to do would be to get Mara’s support, although he was sure they could still salvage this if she chose not to. They couldn’t force it – she had never agreed to join the Inquisition as a Warden, after all.

“But Commander–”

Mara interrupted Josephine, her eyes still on Cullen. “Where did you use the treaties?”

“Warden–” At Mara’s furious expression towards her, Josephine changed tack. “Mistress Amell. We have all the reports here.” She hastened to pick up the stack of notes.

Mara took them from her, a frown on her face. “I want to know exactly what you used the treaties for. Then I make a decision.” With that, she turned on her heel and left the War Room, leaving the Inquisitor with a clenched jaw, clearly stressed.

“You can’t convince her, Commander?” She asked, turning to him.

“I can speak to her about it, but I’m not going to try and convince her. I don’t think it would help, anyway.” 

“Oh, I think it would.” Trevelyan sounded bitter.

Leliana sighed. Cullen knew she was blaming herself for her oversight regarding Blackwall and decided it was time for them to move on from the treaties for now, to another delicate subject.

“All we can do now is wait, and come up with an alternative plan if she refuses. In the meantime – what are we going to do about Blackwall himself?”


	23. Chapter 23 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

As soon as the meeting was over – with Josephine taking charge of getting a dispensation from the Orlesian crown to release Blackwall into Inquisition custody – Cullen immediately began searching for Mara. Thankfully, Varric was able to point him in the direction of the garden, and Cullen trudged there, feeling uneasy at the decision to use Inquisition power to release Blackwall. He thought about what Trevelyan had said to him before – “ _we should never lose sight of what is most important – the success of the Inquisition._ ” Had she forgotten that?

When he reached the garden, he was surprised by what he saw. Mara was sitting cross-legged on the grass, the stack of reports by her side. But she wasn’t reading them; she was gazing gravely at a young boy sitting directly across from her. As he drew closer, Cullen saw that it was Morrigan’s son. He knew that the boy was, by all accounts, a well-behaved child, but Morrigan was a mage that set Cullen’s teeth right on edge, and he knew she didn’t think very highly of him either. 

Thankfully, the witch was nowhere in sight so Cullen approached them. Mara saw him coming, and Cullen was gratified by her smile, even if it was tentative. The boy turned to see who she was looking at, and his eyes widened and he hastened to stand up to greet the Commander. Mara remained sitting.

“Commander Cullen,” said Mara, “this is Morrigan’s son, Kieran.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Cullen smiled at the boy.

“You too.” Kieran paused, staring up at him. “Were you really a templar?”

Mara’s smiled briefly at the upfront question.

“Ah, yes, I was, but I’m no longer with the Order,” Cullen stumbled slightly over his reply, surprised by the… countenance of such a young boy. 

“I’m sure you are glad of that, even if you miss the lyrium,” Kieran replied solemnly. “Although lyrium gives me terrible nightmares.” 

Cullen started, surprised by the reply and completely unsure of what to make of this child. Mara was watching Kieran carefully, and there was something sad about the way she was looking at him.

“Kieran.” Like the witch she was, Morrigan seemed to just materialise beside Cullen. Her eyes slid from him to her son, a hint of worry in their depths. Cullen briefly thought of Mara’s mother losing her children to the templars. “I hope you haven’t been too much trouble for Mara.” 

“Of course not, mother.” Kieran brightened. “We owe her so much, I’m glad to get to know her.” 

“That is true, and I’m also pleased you have had this chance to meet her.” Morrigan stood beside her son, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “’Tis a shame I don’t get to see such a dear friend more often.” She exchanged a heavy glance with Mara and Cullen could tell straight away there was a lot of history here, a history he knew nothing about. He hadn’t even realised Mara was close with Morrigan – but Cullen hadn’t made a secret of his dislike of the witch, so he could understand why she hadn’t mentioned it. A prickle of shame crept up on him.

“Well,” he started awkwardly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping to speak with Mara.” He turned to her. “Whenever you’re ready?” 

Morrigan inclined her head. “We shall take our leave of you, then.” 

“Can we talk again, please, Mara?” asked Kieran, sounding more like a child now. “Your magic is so different to mother’s. It feels like a circle, like the one you learned it in, while mother’s is wilder, it doesn’t take a shape.” He laughed. “Which is funny because –” 

“Yes, Kieran,” Morrigan said, cutting him off, wary eyes on Cullen. He narrowed his own back at her. “You may speak to her again. Providing,” she added hastily, “Mara is happy with that?”

Mara smiled softly, but Cullen could see it was strained. “Of course I am. I’ll see you soon.” 

Morrigan directed Kieran away, but she paused, letting him get out of earshot. Turning back to Mara, her eyes flitted between her and Cullen in distaste. “I would prefer,” she said coolly, “to keep your templar away.” 

Cullen frowned at her, his earlier thoughts of shame about disliking Morrigan disappearing. Now he allowed that dislike to colour his tone and expression. “I am no longer a templar, and I have no ill wishes towards you or your son.” 

“So you say,” Morrigan’s eyes glinted. To Mara she said, ”Do not forget from where this one came from.”

“The same place as me?” Mara replied blithely.

Morrigan sighed. “You remain, as ever, completely boneheaded, my friend.” She turned away after one final glare at Cullen, which he returned in kind.

They both watched her leave. 

Cullen cut his gaze to Mara once Morrigan was out of sight. She was still staring ahead, looking troubled. 

“You know she has nothing to worry about from me,” he said, a bit more snappishly than he intended. 

Mara sighed. “She worries for her son. And…” She trailed off, distracted. “I’d say it’s just that Morrigan doesn’t like templars – which is true – but she just doesn’t like most people.” When she shrugged, Cullen brushed aside the fleeting thought that Mara and Morrigan were similar. That was too disconcerting. 

Gathering the reports, Mara stood.  “You wanted to speak to me, Commander?” 

“Yes.” Now that he could focus solely on her, Cullen found he was the one distracted. He didn’t want to talk about Morrigan or her son, or Warden treaties, or the Inquisition. He wanted to find out what she’d been doing since he’d last seen her, and how she was. He desperately wanted to kiss her, and he was bothered by how formal she was being. 

“Cullen?” When he didn’t answer she frowned and walked to his side. Her frown deepened as she looked up into his face. “You look tired. Do you want to sit down?” 

He _was_ tired. “Ah, yes.” Glancing around, he was pleased to see the garden wasn’t too full, so he extended his arm to Mara, pleased when she accepted but still wishing she’d smile or stop looking so tense. He led her to one of the benches in the corner. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was secluded.

When they sat, Mara angled her body towards his, and Cullen did the same. Their knees bumped and he took the stack of papers out of her hand to place beside him so he could hold her hand himself. Mara scooted closer, leaning against him, but there was a hesitancy, and Cullen’s unease grew, feeling like there was something wrong but not sure what it could be. 

“Are you alright?” Mara asked.

“I am well. It has just been a… tiring few days. The situation with Blackwall is the last thing we need right now.” 

She pulled away. “I haven’t had a chance to read–”

“It’s fine – I wasn’t trying to rush you. I meant what I said in the War Room, and I’ll support your decision.”

Mara looked glum. “I’ll probably help.” 

“Oh?” 

“I was annoyed. I don’t agree with the Inquisitor’s decision to exile the Wardens. And I still don’t want anything to do with the Wardens, but… I know what’s at stake.” She frowned down at their joined hands. “I do want to know what you used the treaties for before I commit, but I’ll likely do it.” 

“Thank you,” said Cullen gratefully. 

Mara fidgeted and he waited, knowing there was something else she wanted to say. “I thought about leaving,” she said in a rush. 

He felt a strike of cold run through him, his unease exploding. “You… Why?” 

Her head raised and he watched her eyes dart around Skyhold’s garden. The sun would soon set, and there was a tranquility falling on the area – a contrast to the turmoil of the couple sitting in the corner. 

“I missed you when you were gone.” He frowned, not at the sentiment, but at wondering what that had to do with anything. “And then I saw you in the War Room and the Inquisitor is asking me to use a title I’m trying to forget and I just don’t know what I’m doing here. I wanted to run.” 

“Why didn’t you?” He tried to keep his feelings out of his voice, and his real fear that she would leave. 

Shaking her head, Mara remained silent. 

“Mara, why?” 

“I like what I’ve been doing here,” she said softly. “It’s been good to see Morrigan and Leliana again. My sister… my sister is here. And the people in Skyhold are good. Welcoming.” She let go of his hand and turned to face her body towards him. “And you. I couldn’t leave you.” 

Cullen was conflicted. She was saying words that should, by all accounts, make him happy. But she seemed upset by her admission. He wondered if he would ever understand her.

“Why does that bother you?” 

She sighed and stood, turning away from him. Cullen saw her shoulders hunch and heard her take in a shuddering breath. “I–” Her voice cracked, and Cullen was alarmed. When her shoulders started shaking, and her hands raised to her face, he stood and took her arm once again, leading her into the nearby Chantry which was, thankfully, empty.

“Mara–” To Cullen’s complete surprise, she turned in his arms and threw her own arms around his neck. He got a glimpse of her red-rimmed eyes before she buried her face in his mantle and sobbed. 

Still not knowing exactly what was wrong, Cullen simply held her tight. He rested a cheek against her hair, murmuring what he hoped was soothing platitudes.

He was still terrified she was going to leave. 

It didn’t take long for Mara to get herself back under control. Cullen had no doubt she didn’t cry often, and he could see her begin to look embarrassed as she withdrew from him. 

But he held onto her tight. “Mara, please just tell me what’s wrong.” 

Her face was drawn and her eyes still wet as she looked up at him. “I’m waiting for you to leave me.” 

Cullen reeled back, shocked even though as soon as she said it, it made sense. The way she acted sometimes, the way she looked at him. “ _Why_?”

Mara took advantage of his distraction to once again pull away, the anger that came so easy to her now edging out the tears. “I saw how you looked at Morrigan. I’m no different from her, Cullen. You’re going to –”

“I don’t care that you’re a mage, Mara! Morrigan has nothing to do with this.” He was angry now too, not wanting to have this conversation again, not understanding _why_ they were having this conversation again. 

She carried on like he hadn’t spoken. “You’re going to realise you can’t stay with a mage–” He scoffed and went to speak again, to rebuff her assertion, but Mara raised her voice ”– especially a Spirit Healer – you know what that means, Cullen – and that this was a bad idea, that it’s _always_ been a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come here.” She tossed her head to the side and Cullen suspected she would have bolted through the door if he wasn’t standing in the way. 

“Are you done telling me what you think I’m going to do?” He asked brusquely, crossing his arms. 

Still refusing to meet his eyes, her voice dropped. “Just end it, Cullen, before someone gets hurt.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Mara,” he replied, an edge in his voice. “I thought I’d made it clear what I wanted, but just in case, I’ll be frank. I want _you_ , I want a relationship _with you_ , I want to make this work. I don’t know why you’re so certain I’ll suddenly leave you for being a mage – like it’s brand new information to me – so I’m just going to say this. I’m not ending this. If you want to break up, it’s your decision.” 

“Do you view my magic as dangerous?” She was staring at him, challenging. 

Cullen threw his hands up, exasperated. “Magic _is_ dangerous.” 

“So is the sword you carry!”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. I cannot blow up a Chantry or travel through time with a sword.”  

“So everyone with magic should be locked up because of those who commit crimes? Torn away from their families and watched every second of their lives, with no freedom?” 

“No, you–” 

Mara continued, her colour rising. “Have their children taken away from them? Thrown into solitary confinement or threatened with execution for misbehaving? Made Tranquil? Beaten? Raped?”

“ _No_!” Cullen pressed a hand to his head, frustrated. “Maker, no, I don’t.”

She was trembling with anger, eyes flashing. “But you–”

“Mara,” he said sharply, trying to get her to listen to him. His own temper was getting the better of him, but Maker, she wasn’t letting him get a word out. “You’re making a lot of assumptions about what I think.”

“Oh?” she responded archly. “Am I?” 

“Yes,” he snapped, “you are. If you really thought that about me – despite what I’ve told you, and what you know about me – you would already have left.” Mara jerked back slightly at that, looking disconcerted. “I do think magic is dangerous. How could I not? How could anyone not?” She opened her mouth to reply, but Cullen continued, needing to have his say. “But it’s also clear that the Circles and the templars as they are aren’t working. There needs to be reform. Mages need somewhere to learn their magic and there needs to be someone able to handle it when they can’t, or when someone abuses their powers. Because there will always be mages that abuse their powers, just as there will always be someone who picks up a sword and stabs the person standing next to them. There are _always_ people that abuse their power.”

“Like the templars?” Mara crossed her arms, still angry. She sounded bitter.

“Yes,” was Cullen’s honest reply. “Like the templars.” 

His reply made her drop her eyes to the ground. Cullen stared at her, waiting for her to respond, to look at him. He thought she looked uncertain. Sad. 

Defeated.

Life had not been kind to either of them, and some of his anger seeped out at that thought. 

The issue with the Wardens and their encounter with Morrigan may have pushed her over the edge, but he realised she’d been waiting for him to leave her since she arrived back at Skyhold. And she was doing everything to push him away. 

He straightened up. “Stop being a coward, Mara.” Her head snapped up, and she finally looked at him again, angry. “And stop trying to make me leave you. I’m not… I’m going anywhere and all this? We can talk about it.” When she still didn’t speak, Cullen sighed, and then made a difficult decision.

He decided to leave. Not her, never her. But he had to leave this conversation because he knew they were just both going to shout at each other and get nowhere. Turning towards the door, he paused to look back at her. “You know where to find me. I’ll be waiting.” 

And then he left the Chantry, blinding walking back to his office, his thoughts in turmoil. 

He couldn’t make Mara stay, and he couldn’t change what had happened to make her so afraid to trust him. She had to make that decision herself. 

So he forced himself to walk away, even if it was the hardest thing he had ever done.


	24. Chapter 24 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

The tower was usually a monotonous place to live, despite the ever-present tension between the mages and templars. So the arrival of the Grey Warden, the drama of the discovery and escape of Jowan the blood mage, _and_ the subsequent departure of an infamous apprentice such as Mara remained hot topics of discussion for a long time after it all happened.

Cullen got through the days just going through the motions. He missed Mara, and he kept looking for her; expecting to round a corner of the library and see her there, smirking at him, waiting to ask him some question. But then it began to get a bit better, and he got used to her not being there, and he took comfort that she was out in the world – probably a much better life for someone like her. Better she was out there, even if she hadn’t wanted to be a Grey Warden, than in here, stuck, seeing the same walls and people every single day.

He hoped she was happy, and he hoped that someday he would be too.

And then, weeks later, the mages who had been assisting King Cailan’s army at Ostagar returned; their tales of the disastrous battle and the darkspawn, even just mundane stories about any kind of life outside of these walls – everyone wanted to hear about and discuss the particulars ceaselessly, even the templars. 

They whispered about Mara, the mage who’d gone to be a Grey Warden, and how horrible it was that she died so quickly after leaving the tower, branded a traitor for her association with the Wardens and their involvement in the king’s death.

Cullen couldn’t believe it. He wanted to scream. He wanted to smash his fist into Alfric’s face when he said, “ _that little tart had it coming._ ” 

But he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even _talk_ to anyone about her in the way that he wanted. He again started to look for her in the tower, hoping beyond anything to hear her voice, to get a chance to see her again, anything. To think of her not being alive was terrible. 

She’d been too bright for this dark tower, but she’d died as soon as she’d left it. 

Cullen mourned, and he despaired. 

But then there was hope – of a sort – as rumours reached the tower about how not all the Grey Wardens had died, but that they had betrayed the king and were responsible for his death. The Wardens were wanted for their crimes, and one of those Wardens was Warden Amell. 

Cullen didn’t even care about the rumours of her supposed betrayal against the crown, simply taking some solace knowing that Mara might still be alive.

He was aware, distantly, of growing tension in the tower, of more hushed conversations than usual and fearful glances and groups of mages trying to meet covertly. He ignored them, too mired in his own thoughts to care about mage gossip, too complacent in how things had always been to suspect anything would ever change. Mages grumbled – that was nothing new. 

As such, he was taken by surprise when the demons suddenly appeared. 

But then, so were all the templars.

And so many of them died because of it.


	25. Chapter 25 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

After his argument with Mara, Cullen slept little. He tossed and turned, unable to get her tear stained face out of his mind. He kept wondering if it had been a mistake for him to walk away from their conversation, and that even if he’d made it clear he was waiting for her to come to him, if the simple fact that he’d left would be enough to make her run away for good.

He didn’t know. When he finally gave up on sleep just as the sun began to rise, he still didn’t know. All he could do was hope she’d listen to what he’d said and they could somehow find a way to move on from this. 

If she couldn’t then… then it was always going to end like this. Neither of them could change their pasts, and Cullen couldn’t erase his wariness of magic. He only hoped she’d realise it didn’t change anything about how he felt about her.

He didn’t want this to end. The thought of it ending was crippling, and it made even worse to know that he'd been so close to something he'd always wanted... only for it to end like this.

Despite the lack of sleep and the fact that his body ached with fatigue, Cullen still felt jittery. The best thing to do, he knew, was the visit the training yard and hope there was someone else awake this early who’d be happy to spar with him. If not, he could at least take out his feelings on a training dummy.

It didn’t take him long to dress and make his way to the training ring. It was still murky in the early morning, but Cullen could easily make out the figure of Cassandra striking a training dummy with intense focus.

She paused as Cullen approached. “Can’t sleep, Commander?”

Cullen merely grunted in reply and picked up a training sword and a shield. He raised his eyebrows at her in an unspoken question, growing impatient when Cassandra didn’t immediately move. She just kept a cool gaze on him – like she was assessing him, which she probably was – for a few moments, but then she nodded and they both stepped into the ring.

As soon as his sword clashed loudly against Cassandra’s shield, Cullen knew this was exactly what he needed. Cassandra didn’t go easy on him, incessantly pressing him and forcing the cobwebs and dark thoughts from his mind as he tried to focus on their battle. The only sounds in the dewy air of the morning was their heavy breathing, their feet sliding along the ground, and the loud clashes of their swords and shields. But it didn’t take long for people to stop by and watch, as always happened when someone like the Commander or Cassandra were sparring. Most only lingered for a few moments, pausing briefly on their way to whatever work or errand they were doing. Considering the early time, only a handful lingered.

Cullen was unable to dispel his distracted mind completely, and Cassandra took advantage of it; gaining ground, pressing him, forcing him to concede. The third time she got him on his back, sword at his throat, he knew it was time to give up.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a good nature that surprised even himself. “I concede.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, pleased, and sheathed her sword so she could help him up. “Is everything okay, Cullen?”

“Not really,” he answered truthfully.

“Recent events have been trying,” she said sympathetically, while still rolling a critical eye over him. “But you should not let it distract you in a fight. It was easy to take advantage of your openings; it could get you killed.”

Cullen sighed. It was basic advice, and something he yelled frequently at his recruits. Letting yourself get distracted on the battlefield meant death. As it was, he was going to feel the pain of his mistakes this morning for days.

A good reminder for him.

“I–” He started and stopped as he caught sight of Mara leaning against the fence of the sparring ring, away from the few other spectators who were leaving now that the show was over. Their gaze met and Mara held it steady for a moment before she dropped her eyes to the ground. She looked as exhausted and unkempt as Cullen felt, but other than that her face was a blank. Cullen’s stomach dropped.

Cassandra followed his gaze, and looked from one to the other, taking in a lot in those few seconds. Then she made her way towards Mara, leaving Cullen standing there trying to gather himself and decide if he was really ready to face what Mara had to say.

“Good morning, Hero,” Cassandra greeted her neutrally.

“Seeker Pentaghast,” Mara replied politely, tilting her head. “Please call me Mara.”

“Mara.” Cassandra paused. “I hope you’ve been settling in well at Skyhold.”

With a tense smile, Mara responded and Cullen finally uprooted himself to join them, baffled at the strained and banal small talk that was continuing between these two usually upfront women. As he stood silently by for a moment, he got the impression they were attempting to get the measure of each other.

After a few minutes of, frankly, excruciating politeness, Cassandra asked. “Are you here to train with us this morning?” and with that, Mara’s facade broke in surprise.

“Oh, no. I was–” Mara’s eyes met Cullen’s again for a second, before she looked back at Cassandra.

“I just noticed you’d been here for a while,” Cassandra continued. “And particularly interested in Commander Cullen.”

Cullen tried to hide his surprise. He hadn’t even noticed Mara – which was probably for the best as it would only have been a further distraction. But Cassandra clearly had. Her stance was still poised as if for battle, stance set wide, arms tensed, one hand on the pommel of her sword. She stood slightly in front of Cullen and he wondered, for a bizarre second, if she was being protective of him.

He’d hardly spoken to her about Mara. But it was likely she’d heard rumours.

Mara’s eyebrows raised. She obviously had not expected to be called out. “I was–” the cool unflappableness Cullen had seen her deploy with so many people seemed to have left her, and he could see she was ill at ease. Mara took a deep breath. “I was just hoping to speak to him.”

“Oh?” The disapproval dripping from Cassandra confirmed Cullen’s thoughts – she had definitely heard some unsavoury gossip about Mara.

“Cassandra.” Cullen stepped forward. “It’s fine.” He touched her shoulder lightly and Cassandra turned, regarding him closely.

“Very well,” she replied, and nodded towards his sword and shield. “I’ll take care of these for you.” 

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, watching her leave and putting off dealing with Mara for a few more seconds.

He was terrified by what she might say.

Finally, he turned to her, and she was staring at him with a wary expression. Repressing a sigh, he said, “Do you want to talk in my office?”

The last thing he wanted was any kind of audience for this.

She nodded, then her gaze darted down to his chest. “Do you need to… change?” Her voice sounded a little strained.

“Oh.” He looked down, wondering what the problem was and then realised. He was wearing only a thin shirt, slick with perspiration from his sparring. With a flush, he answered, “I will…after.”

After what, Cullen wondered. After she’d broken his heart?

They walked in silence to his office, Cullen growing more anxious the whole time. He wanted to say something, to break the oppressive silence between them, but he also couldn’t face the silly small talk like she and Cassandra had taken part in. What could he say? “Did you sleep well, Mara?”

Clearly, neither of them had slept at all.

He allowed Mara to walk in ahead of him. The room was thankfully empty, and Cullen leaned against the door after closing it, watching Mara who stood with her back to him, her arms crossed tight across her body.

He couldn’t take it.

“If you’re leaving, please just–”

She whirled around, eyes wide. “I’m not leaving! I think I’m falling in love with you and I’m scared. You were right. I’m a coward.” Her words came out in a rush.

Cullen remained frozen at the door, hope rising as what she just said sank into him. _She was falling in love with_ _him?_   Slowly, he unthawed, not taking his eyes off her as he took a step forward carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal who might bolt at any moment.

“Maker’s _breath_ , Mara,” he muttered, and her eyes darted away, a grimace crossing her face. “Why are you scared?”

Some of her familiar impatience came back to her as she looked at him incredulously. She took a step back. “Because you’re a templar!”

“Former templar.” He took another step and she again backed up, until she hit the opposite door of the room and Cullen was only a step away from her. “It didn’t bother you before.”

“It did,” she hissed. “I just ignored it. And then I saw how you looked at Morrigan and I realised that someday I’d do something and you’d look at me like that, like I was now one of the _bad_ mages. You told me how you were angry at me before – what’s to stop that happening again? Or what if someday we had a child who was a mage and you looked at them like that? I couldn’t bear it, Cullen.”

Cullen was reeling. “You want children?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot, which he probably was. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. “That’s hardly the point.”

He closed his eyes briefly, getting his bearings. “Right. Forget that for now. But, Mara, I don’t know how to convince you to trust me.”

“I do tru–”

“You don’t,” he said with finality. She probably didn’t trust anyone. “And that’s fine – we haven’t been together that long.Just–” the word came out as a sigh “– give it, give _me_ , a chance?”

Mara deflated, leaning against the door and staring at him. Her eyes were wide and haunted. He’d never seen her look so vulnerable. “I don’t know how,” she whispered.

He took a deep breath. “I’m falling in love with you too.” He took another step forward and kept his voice steady, keeping eye contact. He still half expected her to run out the door, never to be seen again.

“You are?” Her voice was weak.

“Yes, I actually thought I was rather obvious about it.” Cullen’s voice was rueful. Everyone seemed to have noticed. Everyone except the one who mattered most, anyway.

“I’m sorry if I dismissed your concerns before. I can’t erase my history, much as I would like to at times. And when I say that I don’t care that you are a mage – I mean that. I know we’ll face challenges, but Mara, I feel like I’ve been given a second chance. With the Inquisition, with you.” He stepped forward again so they were almost touching, and took one of her hands, holding it against his chest. “If you want to leave, I can’t stop you. But please don’t leave because you’re scared. Please give this a chance.” He ended in a whisper.

For the second time in as many days, Mara’s eyes filled with tears. As one slipped down her cheek, Cullen brushed it away with his free hand.

“Are you sure you want to be stuck with someone who’s such a mess?” she asked, a tremble in her voice.

“If you think you’re the only one in this room who’s a mess, then I have some news for you,” he replied, relaxing slightly.

Mara sighed. When she spoke, her voice was a murmur, her gaze steady on their clasped hands. “I… I can’t promise I won’t freak out again.” She sounded ashamed.

“That’s quite alright,” he said, “I can’t promise I won’t have nightmares or lyrium cravings and everything that goes with it. I just ask that you tell me. We can help each other.”

Mara’s voice was still soft. “Alright.”

Cullen held himself still, hardly daring to breathe. It almost seemed like too simple a reply. “Alright?”

She tilted her head up towards him. “I think I’ve had one foot out the door the whole time I’ve been here. I’ll pull it in.” She paused, and fidgeted in that manner that let Cullen know she wasn’t finished her thought. “I haven’t lied to you about anything. I do want this, and I did come to Skyhold because I wanted to see you, but…” With a twist of her mouth, she shrugged. “I didn’t expect I’d end up staying or dealing with… emotions.” She said the last word like it smelled foul.

A choked laugh escaped Cullen. “Emotions are bad?”

“As bad as talking,” she replied, deadpan. “But, seriously…” Her eyes met his, and when she spoke next, it was with complete sincerity. “I will try. And… thank you, Cullen, for understanding.”

He smiled, and kissed her gently on the forehead. She released a sigh, and for a moment they stood in the quiet of his office. Even the morning sounds of Skyhold were muted as he held her.


	26. Chapter 26 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen wasn’t sure how long they stood there in his office, holding onto one another.

“I am sorry,” Mara said finally. She was quiet, like she was afraid to disturb the moment.

“So am I, but I’d like to move on from this, if you do.” She nodded in reply, and his smile was returned with hers, although it was small. Cullen felt a weight lift from him. He knew there was probably still a lot to talk about between them, but this was enough for now. He was more than happy to move on.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” He asked her, noting again the exhaustion written all over her.

Her smile turned shy. “I’d like that.” Like he had last night, Cullen once again extended his arm and she raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to change?”

Truth be told, he’d forgotten. But it hardly mattered. “I will after breakfast. Right now I’d like to have breakfast with you with no further delay. Unless you have a problem with how I look?”

“Ah, no. I can’t say that I do.”

“Well then, shall we?” Once again he offered his arm with a flourish, and this time she accepted with a quiet laugh. They made their way slowly to the hall, a much easier silence between them now than when they had first walked to his office.

Skyhold was in the full swing of morning business, but people still stopped to see the unusual sight of the handsome commander in only a thin shirt and trousers with a lady on his arm.

“Does it bother you?” he asked Mara, indicating some gawking bystanders.

Her lips thinned. “Yes.” She shot a glare at said bystanders, who turned away, whispering among themselves. “But I know there’s nothing that we can do about it and I don’t want to have to pretend that we aren’t…”

“Aren’t what?” he asked playfully, enjoying the lighter conversation.

“Fraternising?”

He smirked. “The Inquisition doesn’t have fraternisation rules.”

They entered the dining hall, quickly filling their plates and finding seats. They sat close to each other, ignoring the continuing looks. The heat of her by his side sent a flush through Cullen, relief and happiness that she was staying and at what he hoped was a step forward for them both making him feel a little giddy.

“Fornicating?” He said with a straight face, making her choke on a piece of bread at his unexpected words. He held in a smile and handed her a napkin. “Sorry.”

Mara took a gulp of her drink and the napkin from his hand, shooting him a glare. “We aren’t doing that either.”

“No.” He leaned in close to her, to whisper in her ear. “At least not yet.”

She shivered, turning her head to face him, their lips practically touching. “Cullen…” Her breath washed over him and he closed his eyes, completely forgetting where they where.

“My, my,” a rich tone interrupted their bubble. “It certainly looks to be a good morning for you two.” Cullen opened his eyes and turned to Dorian with a huff. He was both annoyed and glad to see his friend. With everything going on, he’d had little chance to see him recently.

Dorian dropped into the seat opposite them and began nonchalantly buttering a bread roll.

“Good morning Dorian,” Mara said with a genuine smile. They both drew away from each other to be more publicly acceptable and returned to eating their breakfast. Cullen was surprised at her friendliness. He knew she’d met Dorian but he hadn’t seen her be that friendly to well, nearly anyone.

“You two are friends now?” He asked, looking between Mara and Dorian. 

“Of course,” replied Dorian. “I am absolutely starved for intellectual conversation here. Imagine my surprise when a Ferelden Circle mage, of all people, starts talking to me about advanced magical theory.” He leaned back in his chair, looking pleased. “There’s hope for you southerners yet.”

“I only asked about the time magic at Redcliffe,” Mara said to Cullen with a slight roll of her eyes.

“And then she tells me she cured her Warden Calling with her own ingenuity and I’m just dying to hear the details.” Dorian’s eyes sparkled, and Cullen had to smile.

“And I told you to buy me a drink first, because it’s a long story,” replied Mara, also smiling. 

“Funny you should say that. I came here with an invitation. Varric has decided we’ve all been working too hard and must unwind in the age-old tradition of getting exceedingly drunk and losing money to each other in Wicked Grace. Such a thing transcends borders and religion, as you know. Your presence has been requested this evening in the Herald’s Rest.” His eyes flitted between them. “Both of you.”

“Oh.” Mara looked surprised.

Cullen wanted to say no. He wanted to spend more time with Mara alone, and the only time they ever seemed have was in the evenings. But… he glanced sidelong at Mara, judging her reaction.

“That could be fun?” She said, a hint of uncertainty, returning his look.

“For a Ferelden, perhaps,” sighed Dorian, and Mara shot him a look.

“Dorian misses the finer things of Tevinter,” explained Cullen.

“Indeed, but at least the company tonight will be splendid. After all, I will be there.”

“Alright then, so will we.” Cullen glanced again at Mara, but she seemed happy with his statement.

Dorian looked disgusted. “You’re already a ‘we’? How vile.”

“I know,” said Mara, wrinkling her nose at Cullen. “I can’t believe it either.”

Cullen glanced from Mara to Dorian. “Maker’s breath,” he said, amused. “I don’t know how I’m going to put up with both of you.” Truthfully, it pleased him to see Mara and Dorian getting along.

“Just admit you have a weakness for intelligent, good looking mages and embrace it,” said Dorian blandly. “Mara, I really do want to pick your brain about the spell you used to cure your Calling. The alchemical theory alone! I was doing some thinking about the blood cleansing aspect of it – could it be applied to blood diseases we can’t cure? It’s not something I ever thought I’d be thinking about, but, here we are.”

“Of course,” Mara agreed readily. “But I can’t today – we have some surgeries, and –” she turned to Cullen ”– I need to speak to the Inquisitor about the Warden treaties.”

“Ah, yes,” said Dorian, lowering his voice. “The Blackwall situation is a delicate one. I believe our dear Inquisitor is struggling.”

Cullen nodded. “She is certainly finding it difficult. Have you decided what to do?” Cullen asked Mara with interest.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ll help. I don’t think it will be as bad as Josephine feared, and she was careful about where they were used. Plus, no one can deny the good the Inquisition is doing. But,” she added with a warning, “I’m not doing it again. If the Inquisitor so much as mentions the words Warden Commander in my presence again, I’m going to set her on fire.”

“How very uncouth,” Dorian murmured.

Mara smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. “I like to make my point clear.”

“There will be no setting of anybody on fire,” Cullen said firmly, glancing from one mage to another, although he knew Mara, for all her talk, wasn’t serious.

Dorian and Mara both spoke at the same time.

“Well, that’s no fun.”

“How boring.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Cullen stood. “If you wish to speak to the Inquisitor, we will be having a War Council soon. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the news, as will Josephine. Blackwall…” He hesitated and then lowered his voice too, trying to keep his tone even. He was still furious at Blackwall’s deception. “Blackwall will be returning to us, until the Inquisitor decides on how to judge him, at least.”

Dorian’s face flickered with surprise. “She’s going to judge the man she’s been rolling in the hay with? A bold move. I approve.”

“Rolling in the hay?” asked Mara. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

Dorian stared at her, fake outrage on his face. “I would _never_.”

“Alright you two,” said Cullen, hiding a smile. “Be nice.”

Mara once again smiled sweetly. “I’m always nice.” She stood, grabbing both her and Cullen’s plates to bring them to the stack by the kitchens.

“I see that’s going well,” said Dorian mildly, tilting his head slightly in Mara’s direction. “You should hear some of the salacious gossip. Did you two actually desecrate the Chantry?”

“Maker, where did – _no_.”

“Didn’t think so. Those Orlesian’s have sordid imaginations.” Dorian looked serious all of a sudden. “But it is going well, then? You were so unbearably serious when she arrived.”

“It’s…going…” Cullen struggled to answer. Saying it was going ‘well’ was possibly an exaggeration. But he was hopeful he’d at least had some kind of breakthrough with Mara this morning. “Better?” He finished.

“Perhaps,” replied Dorian, “‘better’ is all any of us can hope for.”

 

\---

 

Cullen’s day was exceptionally busy. Mara accompanied him to the War Room where she coolly informed them all that she’d put her name behind the use of the Grey Warden treaties already used, but wouldn’t again.

She didn’t mention setting anyone on fire.

The Inquisitor looked exhausted but now, with a plan to have Blackwall returned to Skyhold under the Inquisition’s custody, and the issue of the treaties solved, she seemed to rally and regain some of her confidence. They were finally able to move forward plans that had been in motion before this whole debacle with Blackwall.

The day grew long and it was late by the time Cullen returned to his office that evening. It was already dark, and he was tired and dearly wanted to sleep, but he hadn’t forgotten Varric’s invitation and his promise to show his face at the tavern.

And he wanted to see Mara.


	27. Chapter 27 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

When Cullen arrived at the tavern, he found everyone scattered around a long, narrow table. Some cards and coin still remained on the table, but it was clear it hadn’t been taken seriously – unlike the last time they’d played and Cullen had lost his coin, his clothes, and his dignity. Mara was talking with Dorian, while Sera, Varric, and Cassandra were also at the table.

He got his drink and greeted everyone, To his surprise, he realised that Mara was drunk. She fixed her eyes on him as he sat down opposite her; her legs stretching out to meet his and her lips rising in a smile.

“You know,” she drawled. “I used to be able to hold my drink.”

“What happened?” he asked.

 “The Cure. Lost my Warden stamina.”

“Surely a small price to pay?” He said with a smile.

“Depends on how bad the hangover is.” Mara took another long gulp of her drink. 

“Then perhaps you should stop drinking? Or have some water?” Cullen got the reaction he was looking for – her head tilted and her lips pursed at him, clearly unimpressed.

“Or perhaps you should get drunk too, how does that sound?” Mara nudged his ale, sitting up to lean over the table, bringing her face closer to him. 

Cullen smirked, and took a drink. “Are you trying to take advantage of me?” He too leaned in closer, their faces almost touching.

“If I need to get you drunk to do that, I’ve obviously lost my touch.” Mara pulled back, ever so slightly and Cullen could see she was fighting a smile. Balancing herself on one elbow, she lifted her other hand to trail her fingers down his cheek, over his scar, to rest her thumb on his lower lip. “And I hope you haven’t forgotten my touch.” 

Cullen grasped her wrist gently. “Trust me.” He spoke against her thumb, his voice low and rough, and he felt her shiver, saw her eyes darken to pure black. “I haven’t forgotten.” 

Another voice broke through their bubble. “I think what you _both_ seem to have forgotten is where you are.” 

Both of them turned their heads slightly. It was Dorian who had spoken, though he seemed more amused than anything else. Everyone else was regarding them with various levels of surprise.

Slowly, like they were thawing, Cullen and Mara drew back from each other. Cullen could feel the blush racing across his cheeks and down his neck. He met Mara’s eyes and she raised her glass to him with a smirk, before downing it completely. Her ability to make him forget his surroundings never ceased to amaze him.

She turned to Dorian. “And to think, you almost got dinner and a show.” With that, she stood up – more steadily than Cullen expected – and made her way to the bar.

There was a beat of silence before Varric spoke.

“Holy shit, Curly.” 

“Ah.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I apologise.”

“No, no, don’t apologise. It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself.” Varric grinned. “Maybe just keep it private next time. Or not, you know. This could make a great story.” 

Cassandra perked up, hopeful. “You’d write another romance, Varric?” 

“Sure,” he said. “Anyway, adding the part about the long lost sister might be pushing the boundaries of believability, but I think the mage/templar thing could work.” 

Cullen ignored their conversation, letting it fade into the background as he watched Mara for a moment. She was now talking to Cabot as he got her drink – though Maker knows why, he was unfathomable to Cullen  – before he turned back to his companions, who were all staring at him again.

“What?” He snapped. 

Dorian raised his eyebrows. “Oh, nothing, nothing. After all, it’s an everyday occurrence to see our Commander two seconds away from mauling a woman in the tavern.” 

“I was _not_ –”

“I think,” Cassandra cut in dryly. “That it was the other way around.”

Sera snickered. “Yeah, looks like you’d rather be under than over that one. Can’t say I blame you.” 

“That’s enough,” Cullen growled, trying not to let his thoughts drift to Mara being _over him_. “We got carried away, it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?” Cullen’s eyes snapped up to Mara, who was sliding back into her seat, ale in hand. “That’s incredibly disappointing.” 

He cast a baleful look at her before turning it on the rest of the table. “You’re as bad as them.”  

“Wellllll,” Varric’s eyes glinted and Cullen knew he probably wouldn’t like what the dwarf said next. “I’d say you’re just as bad as the rest of us. I did hear about the eyeful you got the other day.”

Cullen frowned at him. “Excuse me?”

“Ugh.” Cassandra was unimpressed. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you. Cullen – he’s talking about the incident with the Iron Bull.”

“Oh! Of course.” Cullen brought his drink up to his mouth to conceal his smirk. It had happened shortly before he’d left for Val Royeaux – with everything going on, he’d completely forgotten about it. “Yes. That was quite an unexpected, er, show.”

Mara’s eyes bounced between Cullen and Varric with interest. “What _incident_?”

“Yes,” said Dorian, “Do tell.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Cassandra said again. “We walked in on the Iron Bull having a... _tryst_.” 

Mara frowned. “The Iron Bull is the qunari?” Heads all around the table nodded. “Oh. _Oh_.” 

Cullen snorted. “Josephine had the same expression on her face that you do now.”

“Maker–” Mara sounded shocked. “He was with _Josephine_?”

“What?! No! Maker’s breath, she was with us, she wasn’t...” Cullen gestured helplessly as everyone laughed.

Dorian shook his head. “Our poor Josephine. If anyone overheard that, her reputation will take a hit.”

“The way Cassandra tells it, it was the stable boy taking the _hit,_ if you know what I mean.” Varric said matter of factly, and Cullen choked on his ale as he laughed.

“Varric.” There was a half-hearted warning tone in Cassandra’s voice, but she too was clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Josephine,” she continued delicately, “was merely… interested in the qunari physique.” 

Sera snickered. “I bet she was.”

Mara’s eyes widened. “How much did you see?”

Cassandra and Cullen both groaned. 

“They saw everything, Warden,” said Varric with a grin, spreading his hands wide. 

“I’m never telling you anything again, dwarf,” Cassandra snapped. 

“Oh Seeker, that’s a lie and you know it.” 

“Varric, shush. Cassandra, what was it _like_?” She raised her eyebrows at Cassandra and then held both her palms up facing each other, moving them slowly apart. “This size?”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen muttered.

“My goodness. You Ferelden women truly are uncouth.” Dorian’s tone was judgemental, but he was smirking.

Mara raised an eyebrow at him, and Cullen could see she was getting very bleary looking. “You will find, Tevinter, that I am from the Free Marches.” 

“I see.” Dorian regarded her over his glass of wine. “And at what age were you brought to the Ferelden Circle?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Five. What’s your point?”

“Oh, no point. Just trying to get to know you better. Tell me, Mistress Amell, do you like mabari?” 

“Well, obviously,” interjected Sera. “She likes Cullywully, don’t she?” 

“Sera,” Cullen growled. He hated that nickname. 

Mara gave up on her size suggestions and picked up her drink, taking a swig and then waving the tankard about, some sloshing over her hand. “Stop distracting me! I’m asking Cassandra an important question.” 

“And I’m _not_ answering it. I never would have expected the Hero of Ferelden to lack so much decorum.” 

“You don’t stop a Blight with politeness.” Mara placed her drink down and once again held up her hands, palms facing each other, slowly widening the space between them. “Tell me when to stop.” 

“I’m a little insulted you started so small, Warden.” The voice of the Iron Bull boomed across the table, and they all froze. 

“Really,” he continued, stepping closer to their table, ending up beside Mara who still had her hands out in front of her. “If you’re going to gossip, at least keep your voices down.” 

“Bull,” Cassandra started, “I apologise. We…” She trailed off, shaking her head at Mara who had whipped her head around to stare at Bull’s crotch. 

“This is ridiculous,” Cullen muttered.

“Ridiculous is her thinking it’s that small!” Bull grinned at Mara. “I can show you, if you like.”

Mara looked up into his face, bleary-eyed. “Fine.” She stood up, this time with far less grace than she did before, and Bull shot out a hand to steady her. 

“I think,” growled Cullen, “it’s time to get her to bed.” He stood up, quickly rounding the table and wrapping his arm around Mara’s shoulder. 

Bull let out a laugh, letting his arm drop. “You sure she won’t be thinking of me?” 

Mara rolled her eyes. “You wish, qunari,” but Bull merely gave her a salacious smile before he dropped into her vacated seat.

Curling into Cullen, Mara allowed him to lead her away. 

A chorus of ‘ _goodnights!_ ’ rang out as they left the tavern and Cullen heard Bull say, “So that’s Cullen’s woman? He’ll have his hands full with that one.”

_He isn’t wrong_ , Cullen thought ruefully. Although he couldn’t say he minded that much.

The tavern door swung shut behind them, and they were greeted by the cool crisp air of nighttime at Skyhold. There weren’t many people around and Cullen paused. When he did, Mara took the opportunity to press herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. But she quickly stepped back.

“Am I going to spend my entire life annoyed by your armour?” She said petulantly. 

The casual way she said ‘ _my entire life_ ’ sent a thrill through Cullen, though he didn’t mention it. “It’s certainly a possibility. Do you, ah, want me to walk you back to the mage tower?”

Mara blinked up at him. “I’d rather stay with you.” 

He swallowed. “I don’t want to do... anything… not when you’re drunk.” 

Her eyes glinted. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to if _you_ wanted to, but…” She stepped closer to him again, this time grabbing his hands in hers. She gave a wide yawn before speaking again. “I would rather remember it all.”

Cullen leaned his head towards hers. “I’ll make it worth the wait.” 

“I have no doubt,” she murmured. “But I’d still like to stay with you. Is that okay?” There was a hint of vulnerability in her voice. Despite the lightness of the moment, neither of them had forgotten their recent argument. 

Cullen pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. “Of course.” He pulled back slightly. “Unless you really will be thinking of Bull, in which case…”

Mara let out a peel of laughter and he was happy to see her carefree for once. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy curiosity.” She held onto his hand as she tugged him in the direction of the steps leading to his office. Cullen bit back a smile at the stomping way she made her way up the steps, most unlike her usual graceful self. 

“Anyway, clearly the person to ask is Josephine, I’m sure she’ll tell me _everything_.”

“Maker’s breath,” he muttered. “She probably will.” 

They made their slow way to Cullen’s office, passing a sentry who did a double take upon seeing the Commander with a clearly drunk woman tucked under his arm. In the darkness, Cullen suspected the glare he shot the sentry was rather lost. 

He opened the door to his office, letting Mara go in ahead of him. Cullen didn’t bother lighting any candles, but he could make out the dim shape of her standing at the foot of the ladder. 

“I didn’t think this through,” she said faintly, staring upwards forlornly. 

Cullen made no verbal reply, he simply walked over and hauled her over his shoulder. 

“Cullen!” Mara shrieked and then laughed as he started climbing the steps, holding onto her tightly with one hand. “Give a girl a warning.”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” he asked, a smile in his voice. As he reached the top of the ladder, he carefully placed her on the floor of the bedroom, legs hanging over the edge of the opening. Mara stood up and made her way over to the bed, falling onto it face first with a sigh.

“Tired?” Cullen hauled himself into the room, and quickly began removing his armour.

“Yes.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow. “Lots of magic today.”

She didn’t mention the fact that she’d clearly gotten little sleep, like himself. He didn’t bring it up either, still happy to be moving on from the disaster that had been last night. 

“You should be careful. Don’t overdo it.” Cullen was aware he was probably being a hypocrite.

“I know my limits, I’m not a child.” She said sharply.

Cullen wasn’t so sure of the first part of her statement, thinking of the nights he'd seen her, exhausted from her day. “I just meant–”

“I know.” She sighed and sat up, dragging a hand down her face. “I don’t mean to snap, I’m just…”

“I know,” he said. 

“You do?”

Their eyes met. The hole in the ceiling let in enough moonlight to illuminate her. 

“I do,” he said sincerely, still removing his armour. However she acted, Mara was still a Spirit Healer. She wanted to help people. “You can’t heal everyone. I can’t save everyone. We can do a lot, but not enough. We push ourselves to do more and more, perhaps to make up for what we’ve done in the past – or for what we didn’t do. And it’s never enough. But you’re helping. We both are. Remember that.”

He pulled off the last of his armour and his shirt, leaving himself clad in only thin trousers. It was a testament to how drunk Mara was, or how deeply she was thinking about what he just said, that she didn’t even notice. She was staring past him, looking like she was a million miles away. 

He moved towards her, kneeling in front of her to start unlacing her boots. She blinked in surprise to see him so close. 

“You don’t have to do that,” she said softly, but even as she spoke, he was pulling off the first boot. So she just sighed, and shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it behind Cullen in complete contrast to the careful way he’d placed his armour on the stand. The long sleeved tunic she was wearing underneath soon followed, leaving her in a sleeveless undergarment that clung to every curve. Cullen averted his eyes as he pulled off the other boot, though he was distracted when Mara began unbuttoning her trousers. Swallowing heavily with his suddenly dry mouth, he also helped her pull them off, revealing miles and miles and creamy skin. 

Her trousers joined the heap of her clothes behind him, completely forgotten about. He wanted, more than anything, to run his hands up those legs and pull her smalls down too, but he’d meant what he’d said. Not tonight.

He pulled his eyes away from her legs to look into her face. She wore a heavy-lidded expression, clearly having similar thoughts. As she reached under her undershirt with both hands, they maintained eye contact, and Cullen’s swallowed heavily at the flash of bare skin on her stomach as she pulled at her breast band. A moment later she had it undone, pulling it out from under her clothes, and that too, she tossed carelessly to the ground.

The air between them was heavy and Cullen took a deep breath, knowing very well she’d be more than receptive if he kissed his way up her legs and…

No, not tonight. But soon.

So wordlessly, he pulled her into bed, wrapping the blankets around them. Mara curled into him, her head resting on his chest, a hand lazily stroking his stomach. Cullen brought one arm around her, holding her close, his hand on her hip, and the other hand resting above hers on his stomach. Their fingers laced together and he thought he felt her smile against his skin. 

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The walking in on Bull scene absolutely inspired by this incredible scene in his romance that had me rolling: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rr8-5Fn_6XY


	28. Chapter 28 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold**

 

In the first hours, many – both mage and templar – fell to the demons.

Most died fighting but there were some who fell under the thrall of the demons and turned on their comrades, believing the twisted lies whispered to them; seeing old friends now as foes.

It was chaos.

Cullen somehow managed to survive the initial onslaught. He was caught on the upper floors of the tower: the mages responsible for this atrocity above him, and the demons they’d unleashed below. He was with a number of his fellow templars, all of them young, in their first few years of serving. 

They desperately tried to come up with a plan in the breaks between the fighting. 

Screams filtered up to them from the levels below. The floors were strewn with bodies and blood. There was destruction everywhere. 

The smell of death was almost outdone by the smell of fear on this small band of templars.

Two of their group decided to make their way to the lower floors, to see if Greagoir or some kind of command was still alive. 

The rest decided to rush the Harrowing chamber. There seemed to be fewer demons, they said. Perhaps they had killed enough of them to make it.

If they killed the mage responsible, it would end this. They _could_ end this. 

But the demons were just waiting, and the templars never made it to the Harrowing chamber.

 

\---

 

Cullen didn’t remember what brought him to his knees, if it was a demon or a templar under a thrall.

All he knew was that he couldn’t move, and he struggled to catch his breath. His whole body had broken out in a cold sweat, making him shiver.

Suddenly a demon – desire – appeared in front him, sinking sinuously down to his eye-level. She – no, thought Cullen, not she, it – _it_ smiled at him, revealing sharp teeth. It lifted a finger to touch his forehead. 

_He couldn’t move._

And he was panicking. The feel of the demon’s touch made him feel ill but he couldn’t pull away. 

The demon smiled wider and it was wrong, everything was so wrong. Its touch was cold and burning all at once and when it leaned in closer, fear finally gave Cullen some strength, and with a yell, he managed to drag himself backwards. But all he succeeded in doing was falling to the ground before the demon was again hovering over him. 

“Tell me,” it said, in a voice that was wrong wrong _wrong_ , “about Mara.”

“No!” Cullen’s willpower may have failed him in the past, but it did not now. He grasped his sword, finding his strength again, and thrust it upwards.

But the demon disappeared, and Cullen sat up, wide-eyed, searching for it. He could hear an echoing laugh and he scrambled to stand up, trying to ignore the shaking of his legs. 

In front of him was the mangled body of one of the templars he’d fought with and he had to briefly shut his eyes against the sight, before turning away –

– right into the face of Mara.

His sword clattered to the ground, and he whispered her name.

Mara smiled, but it was _wrong_ , and stepped forward. 

Cullen stepped back, and they proceeded this way until he hit the wall, the demon wearing Mara's shape only a breath away from him.

“Cullen,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you.” 

_Demon, demon, demon_ , his mind chanted at him. 

“Cullen,” she said, moaning his name. “It’s me.” 

“No.” 

She reached out to touch him, and he twisted away, gasping, stumbling over the body of another fallen templar. 

“ _No._ ”

This wasn’t Mara. Mara was either dead, killed at Ostagar, or on the run as a Grey Warden, and this demon, who wanted to make him suffer, was wearing her face. 

“Cullen, it’s _me_ ,” she –  _it_ – said softly again, following him as he blindly stumbled around, trying to get his bearings and stamp down on his panic. “I didn’t die, I came back for you.” Cullen couldn’t help but look at her, despair etched across his features. Mara’s face stared at him, eyes wide and imploring, her arms outstretched, surrounded by dead bodies, and he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. “We can be together now.” 

“No!” This time he yelled it, and made a lunge for his sword. But Mara – the demon – moved quicker than any human could, and shoved him back into the wall. He clattered into it, winded, and stood frozen as the demon pushed up against him. 

“No?” It hissed at him, face twisted into an unnatural shape before smoothing out to laugh mockingly. “You think you get a choice?” It placed both hands on him, and he heard the screech of its claws against the metal of his armour. “I know you want this. _I know everything._ ” 

“Begone!” He yelled, once again trying to push it away. But it was again too fast for him, disappearing so that he ended up sprawled on the floor.

Cullen clenched his eyes shut, trying to find strength in this madness, trying to remember his training, hoping that someone would appear to help him. 

The laughter of the demon-Mara echoed around him and he looked up, trying to find it.

There was no sign of the demon, but there was some kind of barrier in front of him.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” said the demon, and he couldn’t place where it was. The voice sounded like it was in his head and he shuddered at the idea. 

“Everyone is dead,” it continued, and suddenly it was in front of him again, on the other side of the barrier. Cullen pulled himself upright with difficulty and the demon stepped through the barrier with no hindrance. Its voice now changed, becoming soothing. 

“Don’t struggle.” 

It kneeled in front of him, staring at him imploringly. 

“It’s just us.” The voice was soft, beguiling. “We can be together, Cullen.” 

Cullen again shut his eyes, willing it to disappear. Nausea was rolling through him and he knew if it touched him again he was going to be sick. 

But it didn’t touch him, although when he opened his eyes it was still there, staring at him with a longing expression that he’d never seen Mara wear. “Cullen.” The voice of the demon rolled over him like silk, but it left him cold. “I won’t leave again. _I’m here_.” It leaned forward slightly and Cullen recoiled at the feel of its breath. “Think about it, Cullen,” it said in a breathless moan. “Think about how we can be together.”

Then it disappeared.

For a few moments, Cullen remained still, before he shakily stood. He limbs felt heavy and uncooperative, and he felt almost like he had been drugged with something. Hesitantly, he reached out towards the barrier in front of him, but he could feel the energy crackling off it when his fingers neared. No, while the demon could obviously pass through it, Cullen could not.

He looked around the destroyed room beyond the barrier; at the bodies of his friends and comrades. Was everyone else in the tower dead or possessed? 

He fell back against the wall, sliding down it, staring into nothing. 

There would be no help coming, he knew. The demon would come back for him. He shuddered at the memory of it, ashamed at how quickly it had figured out his weakness.

Cullen could only hope that it would kill him quickly. 


	29. Chapter 29 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen woke slowly and leisurely, in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Mara’s weight was pleasant on top of him, and he ran a hand down her back with a sigh.

She still appeared to be deep in sleep, and was lying sprawled across his chest. Cullen smiled to himself, enjoying the unfamiliar feeling of contentment washing over him. He couldn’t resist touching her, just light touches up and down her back, but it was enough to make her stir.

She groaned into his chest, and Cullen chuckled.

“Headache?” He asked quietly.

“Mmmm,” was the reply. “It’s not too bad.” Mara’s voice was muffled. She lay prostrate across him for a few more minutes before she raised herself up to peer at his face. Her eyes scrunched up and she dropped her head back to his chest with a groan. “I still shouldn’t drink.” 

Cullen smiled to himself and continued running his hand up and down her back. They lay in silence for a few moments until Mara shifted herself again, still resting her cheek on his chest but tilting her face towards him.

“Cullen?”

“Yes?”

“It’s raining.” 

“…yes?” That was true, it was raining. 

“You have a hole in your roof.” 

 _Oh, that_ , he thought. “Yes,” he said again, smiling at her slightly exasperated expression. 

“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Mara reached up with her hands to run her fingers through his hair. He sighed at the pleasant touch, briefly closing his eyes and holding her close. When he opened his eyes again, Mara was still looking at him, waiting or an answer. 

“There are always other issues that take priority,” he finally answered, a little evasively. It was a partial truth. There were always other issues, but if he’d wanted the roof fixed it would have been done the day he took over this tower. But he hadn’t, instead leaving that corner of the tower empty so that when it did rain, nothing got ruined. The room often got cold, yes, but Cullen was able to handle it. Although it was nicer to be warmer, now that he had a semi-regular sleeping companion.

“If you say so.” Mara clearly wasn’t buying it, but she also didn’t push it – which relieved Cullen but also made him feel a little guilty. She continued her gentle ministrations, adjusting herself to reach him easier, sitting up again and straddling him. Cullen grabbed a hold of her hips so he too could sit up, resting his back against the headboard and settling Mara on him, her face close to his. 

He decided to be honest – he couldn’t expect her to be honest with him and not do the same. “It is also that…” he began and trailed off, slightly embarrassed. He could feel himself growing tense. “I don’t like enclosed spaces. After… Kinloch.” Mara’s hands stilled for a few seconds, and her expression shifted slightly. When she resumed her ministrations he began talking again, relaxing slightly. “It helps, when I wake from a nightmare.” 

She nodded, understanding crossing her face. “That makes sense.” 

“If it bothers you, I can get it fixed.”

“No, it’s fine.” Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she smiled at him. “It gets cold in here, but you can keep me warm.”

“I can do that,” he murmured in reply, trying not to get distracted by the feel of her in his lap and the way her hands were now wandering his torso, nails scratching lightly over his skin. 

Her eyes dropped to her hands and she stilled momentarily before she resumed her lazy exploration of his skin. “Between the Circle and the Deep Roads,” she mused, her eyes still lowered, “I can see the appeal of always being able to see the sky.” 

Cullen relaxed, grateful she understood, still trying to ignore his growing arousal as she shifted on top of him and let her hands rest in his hair again. But when Mara shifted again and he caught sight of a tiny smirk on her lips, he realised what she was doing. 

Holding back his own smile, Cullen tightened his grip on her hips, holding her as he pressed his quickly hardening length against her, trying not to groan at how good it felt, even through their layers of clothes. Mara’s breath stuttered and her eyes flew up to his. 

Now he smirked at her and her eyebrows raised and when Cullen did it again, she reciprocated. Cullen’s hands began to wander up under her shirt, skimming up her smooth skin as Mara began to grind on him in earnest, their breathing quickly becoming harsh. Still, neither of them broke eye contact. When his hands found her breasts, feeling the weight of them before drawing a thumb over a nipple, Mara’s eyes fluttered shut and she shivered. 

Cullen paused his movements. “Are you cold?” He’d meant to sound playful but his voice was rougher then he expected. It was difficult to think beyond the hot heat of Mara pressed against his erection.

“Maker, no,” she answered, sounding breathless. She met his eyes again, desire swimming in them. 

He withdrew his hands from her breasts, ignoring her huff of disappointment. Fingering the bottom hem of her shirt, he said, “Then I suppose you won’t mind if I take this off?” 

Mara gave no verbal reply, simply sat back and raised her arms in the air, waiting for him to act. Cullen grinned and began inching the shirt up, delighting in the slow reveal of skin. He felt Mara laugh. “Do you open your birthday presents this slowly?”

Cullen paid her no mind, once again skimming his hands up her sides, this time taking the shirt with it. He felt her shiver again, and he could only hope it was due to his touch. 

Mara, like him, had any amount of scars on her body. It’s possible she had just as many hidden away on the inside. Most of the ones on her skin had long since healed, leaving an odd constellation across her stomach and chest and, he guessed, around her back. He wanted to mark each one with his lips.

When he drew the shirt over her breasts, he swallowed heavily and sat up to quickly pull it off Mara’s still outstretched hands. Once it was off, before she had even lowered her arms, Cullen drew her closer to him and his lips found one of those dusky pink nipples, teasing with his tongue before sucking gently on it. Mara groaned out his name, and her hands again fisted in his hair as she rocked against him. When he released her nipple, he intended on moving to the other one, but Mara had other ideas. She gently tugged at his hair, encouraging him to look up at her.

“Kiss me,” she demanded fiercely, eyes blazing, and Cullen would have laughed at how pushy she sounded if he wasn’t so desperately turned on. So he pulled himself up to her face and kissed her. It was a greedy kiss, all tongues and harsh breathing. They continued moving against each other, and at one particular thrust, Mara gave a strangled gasp, pulling away from his lips for a moment to catch her breath before returning to kiss him with an abandon that he responded to in kind. 

Despite the increasing urgency in their movements, this time there was no panic or uncertainty for Cullen. There was just the ever building pleasure and the satisfying knowledge that she was here, with him. 

He knew he was getting close. It had been so long since he’d been with anyone, and through his thin trousers and her smalls he could feel how wet she was. It was maddening in the best kind of way. But he was determined that she find her pleasure too.

Trying to focus on anything except reaching his impending release was difficult, but Cullen detached his mouth from hers to once again find purchase on a nipple, lightly biting it and causing Mara’s hips to lose their rhythm.

“Cullen…!” Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her, and her hips found their rhythm again, grinding down against him as he thrust against her.  He could feel her legs shaking. “I’m–”

He pulled his head back to watch her as she came, his own thrusts becoming more frantic. Her head fell back, and her mouth dropped open. Her hands were still in his hair, clutching him almost painfully tight. The sight of her coming undone was something to behold, and with a groan, Cullen buried his face in her neck as his own release rushed upon him, holding her hard enough to leave bruises. 

He was vaguely aware of Mara pulling him down so they were haphazardly lying across the bed, legs tangled together, lying face to face. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, a warm expression on her face. 

“Was that alright?” she asked, in a tone of voice that made it clear she knew very well it was okay. 

Cullen huffed out a laugh. “ _Yes_ , that was alright.” 

“Good,” she said with satisfaction, and kissed him. He sighed into her mouth. This kiss lacked the urgency of their last one; this one was lazy and fond and Mara pulled away slightly, resting her face near his, stroking his cheek. 

“You are so–” The slam of the door downstairs cut him off and made them both startle. 

“Commander, I have–” The voice of some scout or messenger below trailed off as they realised the Commander wasn’t where he should be. 

Cullen groaned quietly. It was obviously later than he’d thought. He’d completely lost track of time. 

“…He’s not here.” Another voice said unnecessarily. 

Mara was amused. “At least they didn’t get here five minutes ago,” she said in a low voice.

“ _Maker_ ,” he muttered.

“But Sister Leliana said he was here and she’s always right.” The first voice spoke again.

“I should get up,” Cullen began, but Mara’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“No, no, no. Not before you tell me what you were just about to say.” She had a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The two people downstairs were still discussing where the Commander might be.

Cullen thought back, and then felt a little embarrassed. He’d been about to say “ _You are so beautiful_ ” but now the moment was gone and he felt a little bit silly. And also, the longer he was lying here in his now messy smalls, the more uncomfortable he was getting.  “I’ll… tell you another time.” 

Mara pouted rather theatrically, but then her face brightened. When she spoke, it was very loudly. “The Commander will be with you momentarily.” 

The sudden dead silence from below would have been comical in any other situation. Cullen glowered at Mara with a glare that usually sent anyone scurrying, but she was nonplussed. 

“You aren’t scary, Commander.”

“Many of my men would beg to differ.” He tried to sound stern but he couldn’t help a small smile. Louder, he said, “Please wait outside – I’ll be with you in ten minutes.”

A sudden flurry of whispers came from downstairs before the first messenger spoke again, sounding unsure. “Yes, Ser. Commander. We’ll… be outside.” Mara and Cullen listened to them hasten out and the door shut behind them. 

Cullen sat up, with Mara following him. “I hope you don’t mind I spoke up,” she said.

“No,” he answered. “You just took me by surprise.”

He rose from the bed, wincing. He really needed to clean up. 

Mara did the same, and he tried not to be distracted by the sight of her in only her smalls. He failed, not even hearing her when she asked him a question. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Did you see where I threw my breast band last night? I can’t find it.” 

Mentioning her breasts made him look at them again, and he sighed. Mara glanced at him, frowning, before realising what he was looking at. She laughed, making her breasts shake enticingly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He said again, making her laugh harder. 

Mara picked her way across the room to him and hugged him. He smiled down at her, returning the gesture, relishing the feel of her warm skin against his, feeling his heart swell at the warm, happy expression on her face. “You are so beautiful,” he said tenderly. “That’s what I was going to say… before.” 

She grinned. “I’d hoped it was something like that,” she said, before stretching up for one final kiss before they both went about their days.


	30. Chapter 30 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Life fell into a rhythm – a hectic one, but a rhythm nonetheless. It was much the same as it had been before his argument with Mara, but now Cullen wasn’t quite so worried she’d take off and he’d never see her again.

Not to say that things were perfect; she still sometimes pulled away, and it would be a couple of days before he’d see her again. Sometimes he’d found that he was the one who pulled away, because at times he needed more than anything to be alone, knowing he was going to have a night of terrors and not wanting anyone near him.  Finding a balance between them was difficult, and made more difficult by their busy schedules and the ongoing war.

Cullen could only hope it would not always be so.

 

\---

 

The Inquisitor requested Mara’s assistance in Emprise du Lion. The bridge at Judicael's Crossing had been repaired by Inquisition forces and Trevelyan wanted to cross to investigate the area and take care of the dragons that seemed to have made their home there.

When she’d announced this in the war room, Cullen had stopped breathing for a moment. The last thing he wanted to imagine was Mara standing in front of a _dragon_.

“My, my, Commander,” Leliana said in her lilting voice, “if I were to describe the colour of your face right now, I do believe it would be puce.”

“Dark puce, I would say,” added Josephine.

He sucked in a breath, trying to clamp down on the wild feeling of angry helplessness in him. And, as much as he knew it was pointless, he was going to argue about it.

“You’re taking Mara to fight _dragons_ , Inquisitor?” 

Three nonplussed women stared back at him. “Cullen, are you forgetting she–” Leliana started.

“Killed an archdemon, I know,” he interrupted sourly. 

Leliana laughed. “Well, yes, that too. But she – or rather, I should say, _we_ – killed the dragon guarding the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

Maker’s breath, he _had_ forgotten about that. “That was a long time ago, Leliana.” 

His petulant response was met with another laugh, this one more than a little incredulous. “So are you going to tell Mara she cannot go? Or tell her you told the Inquisitor to leave her here? Or tell her you don’t have any faith in her abilities? That she’s _old_? That–”

“All right, all right,” he grumbled. “I see your point. I _know_. It is just…” He trailed off, but from the sudden sympathetic twist of her face, he could see that Leliana understood.

“I’m insulted,” Trevelyan said with a haughty air. “You’ve never been this concerned about me, the Herald  of Andraste, going after a dragon before.”

Cullen groaned, uncertain if she was joking or not. Sometimes it was difficult to tell with Trevelyan. “I always… worry,” he muttered.  

Trevelyan relented. “I know. Commander, but we’ll be fine. We’ve done this before, and we’ll do it again. It’ll be easier with a specialised healer, I hope. But you can’t act like this about Mara: she’s part of the Inquisition, and she’s agreed to go.”

He threw his hands up in defeat. “All right.” Cullen knew they were probably right, but he still didn’t like it.

Why were so many damned dragons around now, anyway? 

Knowing that Mara had already been informed she was to travel with the Inquisitor, and knowing they would be leaving the following day, Cullen decided to seek her out as soon as the War Council finished up. He hadn’t seen her in two days; the last time had not been one of their better days, for either of them. 

He had ached all over, a deep weariness in his bones, a slight shake in his hands, a headache coming on. And he’d been beyond irritable. 

So had she, for reasons she’d kept to herself. But their bad moods seemed to have fed off each other, and when she’d asked him if she could help with the pain, he’d snapped at her that he didn’t want her magic.

Not one of his finer moments. 

Mara had got that cool, blank look on her face and had simply retreated to a corner of his office filled with books. From the midst of them, she’d pulled out a small bag, walking towards his desk and pointedly placing a poultice and a potion of some kind on the desk. He’d stared at them, suddenly feeling quite small. 

“I thought it would be best to keep some of these here, in case you ever needed them.” Her voice was like ice, and Cullen winced, knowing he’d messed up – badly. He opened his mouth to reply but paused at her glare. She picked up the poultice again, holding it between her hands, a flickr of magic appearing. “If you can bear to use something touched by _my magic_ –” her voice took on an even harder edge “– this will stay warm for a while. And that’s a mild sleeping draught. It won’t make you drowsy tomorrow.” 

She turned, heading for the door, and Cullen knew she was going to leave. He stood, too quickly, staggering slightly. “Mara–”

Mara paused, turning her head. When she saw the – probably pathetic – state he was in, Cullen thought she seemed to soften a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “I–”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Just use it and get some rest, Cullen.” She turned away and opened the door, ready to leave, and Cullen was seized by that freezing fear that she was going to disappear on him. As if she’d sensed his thoughts, she turned back again. “I’ll… I’ll see you soon.” 

And with that, she had left, and Cullen hadn’t seen her since. He’d itched to seek her out, but he sensed she needed her space. While a small part of him still worried about her leaving Skyhold, he’d decided he would trust her – he knew Mara wouldn’t have said those parting words if she was going to leave. 

But he wasn’t about to let her go dragon hunting without clearing the air between them. 

She was, thankfully, easy to find, and was working in the infirmary within the fortress walls. Cullen paused at the bottom of the steps near where the healers were working – three of them were carefully wrapping up a body while a Chantry sister gave a blessing. Some guards with a stretcher stood nearby waiting to carry the body away. Whoever it was would be brought to the pyre that evening, he knew, and a funeral service performed. 

There were too many of them performed these days. Cullen often saw the funeral pyres down in the valley from his office. 

He averted his eyes, continuing to look for Mara. He spotted her quickly, sitting under a canopy across the clearing, examining a woman lying in front of her.  Her staff was leaning against the table the woman lay on. He was grateful everyone around him was so busy; no one paid him any mind. Quietly, he made his way across the courtyard, stopping a respectful distance away, waiting for Mara to finish. 

He could see her talking quietly to the woman, who let out a cry of pain when Mara pulled away the woman’s tunic, revealing an ugly gash in her side. Cullen could now see the blood staining the injured woman’s clothes. Mara was peering closely at the wound, carefully wiping away blood, still talking quietly to the woman who was becoming more agitated. 

Then, with a nod, she put down the cloth and took her staff in one hand, and leaving the other just hovering above the wound. Cullen stilled, realising that he’d only seen Mara use magic twice since she’d been at Skyhold – once when she had lit the fire in her room, all those weeks ago, and then recently, when she’d heated up that poultice for him. 

He had never seen her heal, although he’d obviously seen this type of magic used countless times over the years. The familiar green energy swirled like it was caught in the gentle breeze. Mara’s face had a look of intense concentration, and it wasn’t long before the woman relaxed and the magic dissipated. Mara reached for a fresh basin of water beside her and resumed cleaning the wounded area, still gentle and careful in her ministrations. 

It was peaceful.

And it was clear that the wound was healed. The woman had raised herself onto her elbows to look down in wonder at the area that had been bleeding profusely only moments before. Cullen still couldn’t hear what they were saying, but her grateful expression said it all. When Mara was finished, the woman sat up – gingerly at first and then swung her legs around to stand up easily. She grinned at Mara, who gave her a tiny smile back. 

Cullen stepped closer, now able to hear what they were saying.

“I can’t save your shirt,” Mara was saying, now wiping her own hands. 

The woman laughed, and then replied in an Orlesian accent. “A small price to pay, surely! And it was very ugly anyway.” She picked at the bloody tunic she still wore. “I can’t thank you enough–”

Mara waved off her thanks. “It’s what I’m here for. Just take it easy for a couple of day, eat well, and try not to get stabbed again.”

The woman laughed again, although now she sounded slightly incredulous. “I’ll certainly try.” She watched Mara tidy up, and Cullen tried not to fidget, wishing she would just hurry up and leave. When she spoke next, it was in a careful tone. “May I ask you something, Mistress Amell?”

Mara paused, looking up to meet the woman’s eyes. “You can ask,” she said evenly. “I’m not promising to answer.” 

The woman gave a shrug that could only be described as completely Orlesian. “Very well. Is it true what they say, about you and the Commander?” She asked eagerly.

Mara made a noise of impatience. “Oh, for–”

Cullen decided then to interrupt, and he stepped up to Mara’s side. Both she and the Orlesian woman started in surprise at his sudden presence. 

“And just what,” he growled at her, “are they saying?”

“Oh!” The Orlesian raised her hand to her mouth, laughing slightly. “Nothing that isn’t true, I see.” She gave them both a slight bow. “Forgive my rudeness, Mistress Amell – and thank you again for your help. If I ever require healing, I shall definitely come to you and your magic touch.”

With that, she shot Cullen a challenging look before flitting away like she was wearing a gown and not ripped trousers and a bloody tunic.

There was a beat of silence. Mara’s eyes skittered toward Cullen before she turned away, depositing the dirty rags into a bowl. 

“How are you?” She asked evenly, politely, like he was just some acquaintance and not her… whatever he was. A spark of irritation flared up in him. 

“I’m… I’m fine,” he ground out, staring at her back. “You–”

She interrupted him, still in that even tone. “I’m busy.”

Cullen glanced around. The body he had noticed earlier was gone, and a few of the other healers sat around a fire, talking quietly and eating. There was no else in the small clearing. “Really,” he said flatly.

Mara now looked up from her busywork, frowning as she realised she wasn’t actually busy at all. “Oh.” She dropped what she was doing and turned to Cullen, folding her arms. “Are you here to complain about my magic?”

Cullen sighed. “Maker’s breath, Mara, no. I am truly sorry for what I said. I was short tempered and in pain, but it was no excuse for speaking to you like that. No, it’s just… I don’t want you to leave tomorrow without clearing the air.” 

She shifted slightly, her expression downcast. “Oh,” she said again. “The Inquisitor told you.” 

“Yes.” A thought occurred to him. “When did she tell you?” 

“Right before I saw you the other night,” she answered with a shrug, like it didn’t matter.

Except it obviously did. “Is that why you were so angry? I mean,” he added in a rush, “before I was an idiot.” 

Mara’s lips briefly quirked upwards, before dropping again. “Yes. Would you…” She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “Would you think less of me if I said I didn’t like fighting?”

Hesitantly he reached out to touch her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Of course not.” He dropped his hand to squeeze hers and she smiled at him. Cullen felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders, like he could breath fully again. He hated these stupid fights they had, just as he hated his own weakness to stop them. 

Mara took his other hand and swung them gently between them. “I don’t want to go and help the Inquisitor kill a dragon.”

“Did you tell her that?”

She shook her head. “I agreed to this when I joined the Inquisition. And we’re at war. Not fighting isn’t an option. I’m going.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Cullen replied honestly. “I… I’ll worry.”

“We’ll be fine,” she murmured, and stretched up to kiss him lightly on the corner of his lips. “And I’m sorry too. About the other night. I knew you were in pain and I shouldn’t have snapped back.”

Cullen shook his head. “I was in the wrong. Shall we… shall we forget about it?” 

“I’d like that,” Mara said with a smile. This time Cullen leaned down to lightly kiss her, and he felt her smile widen. “This is why there are rumours, Commander,” she murmured against his lips. 

He pulled back lightly and scowled. “Everyone in Skyhold could learn a thing or two about minding their own business.” 

“Is it your own business when you’re conducting it flagrantly in the middle of the courtyard?” Mara asked wryly, but she stepped back slightly, putting some space between them. 

Cullen took a deep breath. She had a point. “You’re determined to go with the Inquisitor?” 

“Yes,” she answered, folding her arms. She really wasn’t happy about it, and Cullen wished there was something he could do to make it better. “Anyway, I don’t want to kick up another fuss, not after the… Warden business.” 

“You’ll be careful?” Cullen didn’t care how ridiculous it was to sound so forlorn. This was a woman who could take care of herself, and had done so for a long time. She had faced scarier things than a dragon. The Inquisitor would get them all back alive. 

But still, every time he thought of her facing a dragon, it made his skin crawl and anxiety flare up in the pit of his stomach.

He half expected her to roll her eyes and scoff at him, but she didn’t. She just gave his hand another squeeze and replied solemnly. “I promise.” 


	31. Chapter 31 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

He watched Mara leave with the Inquisitor, Leah standing beside him, waving off her sister with stars in her eyes. Cullen swallowed his misgivings, ignoring Bull’s exuberance at the mere idea of dragon slaying again. The Inquisitor still had her steely face on – the one she’d had on since the news of Blackwall’s betrayal. They were still waiting for him to be released to them, and the wait was clearly making her anxious. Cullen had seen her in the sparring ring, not unlike how he had been a few weeks ago, working off her feelings on the training dummies and against Cassandra and Bull.

Cullen suspected the dragon slaying was her attempt to blow off some steam. 

He tried to push away his unease, and swallowed down his request for Mara to stay again, said his goodbyes, and watched them leave. He stared after them for longer than he should, long after Leah had left, until the four figures on horseback disappeared over the bridge. 

He heard a sigh beside and turned towards it. Leliana was regarding him with that keen look that made him uncomfortable. Suddenly, she linked her arm through his and turned him around.

“Come, Cullen,” she said easily. “Josie has some treats she put aside for us from that latest delivery from Antiva. Let us enjoy them while we bicker in the War Room, no?”

Cullen hesitated, turning back towards the bridge slightly. It seemed outrageous to go and eat treats while Mara was on the road.

Leliana sighed. “She will be fine, Cullen. I fought by her side for a long time.”

His jaw clenched as he allowed Leliana to lead him away. “She said…” He hesitated, worried about betraying Mara’s confidence. “She said she doesn’t like fighting.” 

Leliana nodded. “She never did. But she became very good at it.” She shrugged. “If she did not, she would be dead by now.” 

“I thought you trying to make me feel better,” Cullen groused at her. 

“You know her first experience of battle was fighting darkspawn? Can you imagine that? Those vile creatures rushing towards you, someone who spent their entire life in a Circle? And then to experience the tragedy of Ostagar!” Leliana shook her head. “I knew shortly after meeting Mara that she was a powerful mage, but it was clear the Circle taught little practical life skills and she was ill-prepared for life outside it. I have never seen someone so angered while trying to assemble a tent.” 

Cullen couldn’t help but smile at the image of it.  

 “Alistair and I wagered over whether she would set it on fire. I won, of course.” Leliana finished with a sly smile.

“…Did she?”

She gave a light laugh. “Oh, Commander, can’t you guess?”

Cullen frowned as he thought about it. “No, I don’t think she did.”

“You are correct. Alistair was most put out – and it was quite profitable for me. For all her anger, Mara has always been controlled. Especially with her magic.” 

Was that remark for his benefit, or was he being paranoid? Cullen wasn’t sure, and he didn’t ask. By now they had reached Josephine’s office, who beamed at them both as they entered.

“Commander! I put aside some of that Antivan coffee you like – I know you are fussy about your coffee.”

“Ah, thank you, Josephine.” He didn’t think he was _that_ fussy, but it was true that this Antivan flavour was the best. 

“Cullen.” Leliana’s serious tone drew his attention. “I meant what I said – Mara will be fine.”

Josephine nodded. “I obviously cannot say I know her as well as you two do, but I am fairly certain Mistress Amell could level a dragon with her glare alone. It certainly seems to work on the nobles.” 

Both woman were earnestly looking at him, and while he was relieved by their attempts to make him feel better, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Thank you,” he said gruffly, and gestured at the plate of tiny cakes on Josephine’s desk. “Are these the treats Leliana was telling me about?”

“Some of them,” replied Josephine with a hint of mischief. She lifted the plate in one hand and her notes in the other. “Now, shall we get to work?”

 

 

\---

 

Despite his heavy workload and the reassures from his friends, Cullen still found plenty of time to worry. He eagerly awaited any news from Emprise du Lion. A note arrived on one of Leliana’s ravens informing them the Inquisitor and her party had arrived.

And then there was _nothing_. 

That wasn’t particularly unusual, not by itself. News was often delayed – or there just could _be_ no news. Neither Josephine or Leliana were overly concerned as one week slipped into two. Cassandra told him he was overreacting. Even Leah seemed to take Mara’s absence lightly in a way that made Cullen think of what Leliana had said about Mara being ill-prepared for life outside a Circle, and it made Cullen regard the bubbly mage in a new light. Hasmal Circle had certainly been a better place to live than Kirkwall or Kinloch, and he realised that there was a naivety around Leah. She blindly believed no harm could come to Mara, especially not when she was with the Inquisitor.

While Mara was gone, Leah pestered Cullen with questions about Hawke – more of the family she’d never known.

He quickly directed her to Varric.

 

 

\---

 

His nightmare took on a new flavour. Mara. Dragons. Flames. Sometimes in Kirkwall. Sometimes in Skyhold. It was exhausting.

Blackwall arrived back at Skyhold, and was immediately transported to the cells to await the Inquisitor’s return. 

Cullen had glowered at him the whole time he’d watched him cross the courtyard. Blackwall – no, Rainier – didn’t even look up; he kept his head bowed, only lifting it when Josephine spoke to him as she, along with some guards, escorted him.

“What do you think the Inquisitor will do with him?” Cassandra asked from beside him. 

“I truly do not know,” he replied. His first thought was that she’d be selfish and let him go free – they had escaped the worst of the repercussions thanks to Josephine’s pressing for a dispensation from Orlais to release him, and because of Mara’s involvement with the treaties. Many, especially in Ferelden, were still impressed by the Hero who stopped the Blight.

But after more consideration, he’d become less sure that she would be selfish – the Inquisitor was devout and dedicated. She’d tried her best to run the Inquisition in an above-board manner, using diplomacy wherever she could. Her judgements were all carefully considered and were fair, although some thought they were harsh. Cullen wasn’t convinced that her feelings for Rainier would make her break this pattern. 

Although she had used the Inquisition to get him released from jail, so – he could well be wrong.

“She is in love with him,” Cassandra said in her blunt way – but to Cullen she sounded a little wistful. “It is all rather tragic.”

He slid his eyes over to her, keeping his face neutral. “It’s rather like those novels you like, isn’t it?” 

Cassandra spluttered. “It is not – it is… how did you hear about that?”

He smirked. “There are no secrets in Skyhold. Unless you’re Thom Rainier, apparently.” He paused. “And did you truly expect Varric to keep that information to himself?”

“It was too much to ask, I suppose,” she muttered in reply. “He’ll be writing about you and your mage, next, mark my words.”

Cullen groaned. “He probably will.” 

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have encouraged him to keep writing romance.” Cassandra’s face now held a look of mischief. “Especially not when there was such a romance taking place right under our noses!” 

Cullen was surprised. “I thought you didn’t like Mara?”

“I don’t.” Cullen wanted to interrupt her, annoyed, but Cassandra kept on talking. “But I do not know her well. Perhaps there is more to her than her rudeness or inability to have a normal conversation. There must be, for you to like her. I still cannot believe the Hero of Ferelden is…” She trailed off, looking at Cullen slightly apologetically. “Well, it does not matter. If you are happy than I am happy.” 

He tried to stamp down his annoyance at her. “I am happy.”

“Good. I will…” Cassandra sighed. “I will try to make more of an effort. I know she has been one of the busiest healers in Skyhold, and that is commendable.” 

“Thank you,” he said, relieved. Mara had never brought up Cassandra in conversation, but he’d seen the two of them circle each other warily enough times to guess that the dislike was mutual. It bothered him more than he cared to admit. “I hope,” he added quietly, “that they will be back soon.” He didn’t need to specify to Cassandra that he was talking about Mara and the Inquisitor.

“They will,” Cassandra said with confidence. “The Inquisitor has gone longer with no notice, and there’s been nothing out of the ordinary to cause alarm. She probably stopped to pick herbs for the villagers after slaying the dragon that was tormenting them.”

Cullen gave a short laugh at that. “Highly possible, knowing the Inquisitor.” 

“Anyway,” she continued, “I expect you will not need to pine for much longer.”

“I am not…” He shook his head. “I am not _pining_.” 

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “If you say so, Commander.”


	32. Chapter 32 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen was pining.

But he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, and he didn’t let it get in the way of his duties. 

So much so, that when the Inquisitor finally returned, he was in the depths of the valleys outside the fortress, running drills. He only found out about her return when a scout approached him with a message. 

As he saw the scout approach, Cullen’s heart stopped for a second, before starting up again double time, fearing he was bringing bad news.

But no – the Inquisitor and her party had returned safely, and his presence was requested in the War Room. There was no calamity, no drama – this was all normal.

His worry had been for nothing, and Mara was back in Skyhold. Unfortunately, he couldn’t go to her yet, although he kept his eyes peeled as he made his way through Skyhold’s courtyard and the hall, but there was no sign of her.

Resigned, he entered the War Room where the others were waiting, pleased to see the Inquisitor unharmed. But she looked travel-worn and weary. With a quiet greeting to Cullen, Trevelyan then took a deep breath. 

“Blackwall is here?”

Cullen’s anger at the fake Warden reared up as soon as he heard the name. “Yes,” he said gruffly. “He’s in the cells.” 

Trevelyan bowed her head for a moment. “I will judge him tomorrow,” she finally said. A heaviness sat upon her. 

They all looked at her in concern. But by now they’d learned that the Inquisitor wouldn’t appreciate any questions about her well-being. Trevelyan had allowed herself to lean on nobody, as far as Cullen could tell – except for Blackwall. In all aspects, she’d been the Inquisitor above reproach, even if many didn’t agree with her decisions. Blackwall was her one, huge, blind spot. 

Josephine made a note. “…Very well, Inquisitor. I will make the preparations.” She hesitated. “Things at Skyhold have been well. There is no business that cannot wait until tomorrow – you should rest, Evelyn.”

Trevelyan looked up at Josephine. She’d usually brush off a comment like that. But now she simply nodded slowly, looking like she was far away. Then she seemed to come back to herself. “Yes, I think I will. Thank you, Josephine.” With that, she dismissed them, leaving the War Room in almost a daze.

“What do you think she’ll do?” Cullen asked.

“I honestly do not know,” said Josephine, looking weary herself. 

Leliana was thoughtful. “I think she will give him his freedom.” 

“You do?” Cullen was surprised.

“Yes. What happened at when she was in the Fade shook both her belief in herself and in the Maker. I believe Blackwall helped her find her strength again. She is a woman who holds a heavy burden. Blackwall helps her carry it.”

Josephine looked thoughtful, but Cullen frowned. He could understand all that, but to forgive Blackwall after what he’d done? 

“I thought you would be more forgiving, Cullen, considering your relationship with Mara.”

“That,” he said stiffly, “is entirely different.” 

“Perhaps,” she shrugged. “Anyway, nobody is asking you to forgive Rainier. And that is probably for the best.” 

 

\---

 

Later that day, Cullen stomped back to his office, deciding he would dump the stack of reports he was currently carrying and then go find Mara.

To his delight, he didn’t have to look, because she was waiting for him. 

She was sitting in his chair behind his desk, reading a book, but as soon as she heard the door open, her head snapped up and an inviting smile stretched across her face. 

Cullen wasted no time launching himself towards her as she stood from the chair.

“Cul–” Mara’s greeting was cut short by Cullen’s kiss, but she didn’t seem to mind. Distantly, Cullen heard the book she was holding fall to the floor with a thud before her hands wound into his hair and she pressed herself against him. 

The kiss was intense. Cullen felt like he was pouring weeks worth of kisses into this one. He was so aware of every sensation: the slide of her tongue against his, the slant of her lips, the tightening of her hands in his hair before they slid down to cup his face, the warmth and softness of her under his own hands, how good she smelled. 

Maker, she smelled good. 

There was also clarity. Sure, clear clarity as to what he wanted. 

Mara drew away enough to take in a breath, her lips still so close to his. Her eyes opened, slightly dazed but heavy with desire and she captured his lips again, drawing his lower lip between her teeth, biting gently. Her hands now fisted in his mantle, holding him to her.

Cullen groaned into her mouth before he pulled away slightly. “Mara,” he gasped. “I love you. I want you.” 

Her eyes widened at the sudden confession and her breath hitched. “I–”

Once again she was interrupted, this time by the opening of the door.

“Comman–” the unfortunate messenger began as he stepped into the room before a snarl from Mara cut him off.

“Get out!” 

The messenger’s mouth dropped open, taking in the sight before him. His eyes landed on Cullen. “S-ser?” 

“You heard her,” Cullen growled with a glare, not bothering to detach himself from Mara or even remove his hands from her backside. 

The messenger, quick on the uptake, said swiftly with wide eyes. “I’ll just leave this report here then, Commander.” He carefully placed the piece of paper on the floor in front of him, before sweeping one more look over the couple and then leaving. Cullen got the impression he was fighting a smile, but soon completely forgot all about the messenger as Mara tugged his face back towards hers and kissed him again, hungry kisses that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Cullen,” she gasped between kisses. “Upstairs.” 

He made an affirmative noise – it did sound like a good idea – but was unwilling to stop kissing her, and she didn’t seem to mind. But when Mara dragged her hands down from his hair to his chest, hitting his armour, he pulled away. Her chest was heaving and Cullen took in her flushed cheeks and well-kissed lips with some satisfaction. “Upstairs,” she repeated impatiently, “ _now_.”

She stepped out of his arms and quickly crossed the room and began ascending the ladder. Cullen, despite the fact that he was fairly sure there was no blood left in his brain, didn’t hesitate to follow, enjoying the view of her backside as he climbed up behind her. 

The second he stood in his bedroom, Mara was back on him, lips on his and her hands insistently tugging at his armour with a surprising feel of desperation. 

“Mara,” he said, a muffled laugh against her lips, “there’s no rush.”

She pulled back from him slightly, her eyes searching his, and Cullen realised she was anxious. 

With a warm smile, he placed his hands on her arms manoeuvring her back to the bed. “Sit,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She did so, dropping heavily to the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Cullen quickly pulled off his bracers and gloves and then removed his chest plate before working on his boots. The whole time Mara watched him like a hawk, saying nothing, although she kept worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. 

It was reminiscent of the night she had been drunk, except this time there was a certainty about what was coming next and all the expectation surrounding it. 

When he was down to just his trousers a few minutes later, Cullen approached her again, dropping to his knees before her. He noticed her swallow heavily, and with a smile he leaned up to kiss her, licking the lip she’d been biting before sliding his tongue back into her mouth. Mara’s hands slid up his arms to clutch at his shoulders, and she sighed into him. 

When he pulled back, she looked at him in askance. Fingering her tunic, he asked, “May I?” A smile and a nod was his only reply, and he quickly lifted the material, groaning when he realised she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, dropping her tunic to the floor and letting his hands explore the newly exposed skin. 

“I thought I was just coming here to sleep, and that I may as well be comfort–ah!” Her words were lost in a gasp as Cullen gently nipped at a nipple with his teeth, before wrapping his lips around it. His hands smoothed up and down her back while her nails scratched pleasantly along his shoulders and scalp as she shifted restlessly under his ministrations, her breathing harsh. 

Cullen broke away from her with a smile, and decided to get to work removing the rest of her clothes. Her boots came off easily, and Mara lifted herself up so that he could pull off her trousers. Cullen paused for a moment, taking her in. Warm evening light was still filtering through the window, casting a glow across the room, illuminating Mara who sat in nothing but her smalls, watching him with heavy eyes. He kissed her again, languidly, savouring the moment, before drawing himself back once more.

Slowly, slowly, Cullen ran his hands up her calves, smoothing over her knees and up her thighs until he reached her smalls, skimming a thumb across the skin at the top of her thigh just before it disappeared under the fabric, feeling her wanting gaze on him the whole time. Glancing up at her, he repeated the same question from earlier: “May I?” His voice was deep with want, and when Mara once again nodded as her hands fisted into the blankets she was sitting on, Cullen dragged them down her legs more quickly and with less finesse than he’d approached them. 

He swallowed, taking in the sight of her. He was painfully hard already and she hadn’t even touched him, his cock still contained in trousers that felt all too restraining. But that could wait, he decided. Now he wanted to do something he’d thought about a lot since reconnecting with Mara, but had never actually done before. 

Gently, he drew her forward to the edge of the bed, encouraging her to spread her legs wider. She did so, eagerly, which helped chase away some of his nerves. He settled himself between them, still kneeling on the floor, and placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, eyes darting up to hers to make sure it was okay when he felt her hand rest in his hair. 

“Cullen, please,” she hissed, and he smiled at the demanding tone in her face and continued to kiss up her inner thigh, taking in the heady scent of her arousal. He continued to nip and suck at the sensitive skin as she shuddered beneath him, and he brought a hand up to part her glistening folds. This, he had done before – brought her to completion with his fingers, although she’d never been spread so open before him before. With a deep breath, he flattened his tongue over her clit, gratified by the breathless moan from above. 

His licks and kisses to her most sensitive area were tentative at first as he explored with both his mouth and hand, overwhelmed by her taste and scent and the feel of her thighs around his head. She was so very wet and it made him groan against her. As he wrapped his lips around her clit and slipped two fingers inside her, he heard Mara fall back against the bed, her breaths coming out in pants now, her hips tilting against his face, desperate to get closer. Cullen looked up from between her legs as she propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, and he kept his eyes on her as he licked up the centre of her. Mara’s head fell back again, his name a moan on her lips. 

Satisfied he wasn’t a disaster at this, he became bolder, his movements more deliberate. Cullen was a quick study and Mara was responsive enough – both vocally and in her physical reactions – to let him know exactly what she did and didn’t like. He could feel her grow tenser under his attentions, her legs starting to shake and the hand in his hair tightened almost painfully. From his very enjoyable viewpoint he cast an eye up over her, taking in the flush of her chest, the arch of her back, her other hand gripping the blanket beside her. He took that hand with his own free one, lacing his fingers through hers, and she grasped him hard. He continued stroking her with his other hand, feeling her getting closer and closer as her walls fluttered around his fingers, while his mouth worked feverishly at her. When her thighs constricted even further around his head he briefly thought he was going to suffocate but in the next moment Mara was coming powerfully with a loud cry, clenching around his fingers, a vice grip in his hair and on his hand. He kept stroking and lapping at her, enjoying every bit of her essence, until her legs relaxed around him, dropping onto his shoulders and her grip on him loosened. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she sought to catch her breath.

“Cullen…” Mara weakly raised her head. “That was…”

He grinned, pleased with himself, and kissed his way back up her body until he reached her mouth. Once more she eagerly opened up to him, and his tongue stroked along hers lazily as she came down from the aftershocks of her orgasm. But he was awkwardly hovering over her; her upper body was flat on the bed, but her legs hung off the side, her feet resting on the floor. Drawing back slightly, he murmured for her to move up the bed, and as she did he followed, until he was comfortably stretched above her, careful to keep his weight off her and trying to ignore his now borderline painful erection. 

“I take it you enjoyed that,” he said against her lips, and she laughed, still slightly breathless. 

“Maker, no, that was terrible,” was her sarcastic reply but she couldn’t keep the satisfied smile off her face. 

He pulled back to look her fully in the face, raising his eyebrows at her. “Oh? I won’t do it again in that case.” 

Mara’s hands were now travelling again as the bonelessness of her orgasm left her, but she paused, her eyes flashing at him. “Yes, you will.” 

He kissed her neck, and she tried to press into him, seeking friction, and she made an irritated noise to find his body too far away for her liking. “If you desire. I’ll try to improve next time.”

“In that case, I think _you’ll_ be the death of _me_ ,” she muttered and then frowned as her hand skimmed over his backside, finding he was still wearing clothes. “Why are you still wearing these?” 

He leaned back to unlace his trousers, slightly clumsy in his haste, and Mara helped pull them down and off him. She immediately took him in her hand, and Cullen groaned at the feel of her thumb swiping over the head of him, gathering the moisture and of her tight grip. He let her stroke him for a few moments, moaning into her neck, tilting his hips into her hand, until he knew she had to stop or this would be over too soon for his liking. 

“Cullen,” she whispered, her voice husky, “would you like me to use my mouth on you?” Her teeth grazed his ear and he stilled. 

The mere thought of it sent powerful desire lacing through him. The thought of watching her taking him in her mouth, how that would feel… 

Maker. 

“Yes,” he moaned, “but… not now.” He raised his head, brushing his lips across hers. “I meant what I said downstairs. I want you. All of you.”

Her fingers trailed down his face, her thumb stopping to rest on his lower lip. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” he said softly against her thumb. “It seems silly now, that I waited so long–”

She shook her head lightly. “No, it wasn’t. You know I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?” 

He took a hold of her hand, kissing her palm. “I do now. And…” He hesitated a moment. “I meant everything I said before. I love you.”

Her expression softened, the last of the day’s light falling across her face. She looked so beautiful it took his breath away. 

“I love you too, Cullen,” Mara’s eyes were shining as she pulled him in for a kiss. Cullen tried to pour every ounce of his feeling into that kiss, and he felt like she was doing the same. 

He smiled at her as he pulled back, settling himself between her legs. “I’m so glad you came to Skyhold,” he said softly.

“So am I,” she whispered, a hitch in her voice, and she closed her eyes. 

Cullen kissed away the tear that fell from her eye, brushing her face with his fingers. Her arms wound around his shoulders as she opened her eyes that were a little glassy. He thought of how lucky he was, that this woman was finally in his arms the way he’d always dreamed and she wanted him the same way he wanted her. And he knew how difficult it was for her to be so open, she who made a point to appear that she needed nobody. She was prickly and short with people, and she kept everything close to her chest, but she ferocious and warm and caring underneath the cold exterior. She was clever and funny and he remembered one of the first things he’d thought about Mara when he’d first met her, so long ago in the Circle: that she was too bright for that gloomy place. She was too bright for the Wardens, to end up dying in the Deep Roads. She was meant to be here, with him, whatever lay ahead of them after the war, they’d do it together. 

“It’s okay,” his tone was gentle, “I’m here.” 

“So you are,” she replied thickly, her eyes searching his face, seeming to find what she was looking for. Her hand trailed down his chest to grasp him again, making him groan, but this time it was to help line him up against her entrance. Cullen slid into her welcoming warmth at her encouragement, and both of them simultaneously let out a groan. Mara’s mouth dropped open as he filled her, but once he was sheathed to the hilt, he had to pause. 

She felt so good, and it had been so long…

Mara shifted slightly, locking her legs around him, and even that small movement sent spasms of pleasure throughout him. It was like everything in his world had centred down to where they were joined. He met her eyes and held her gaze as he began moving. Her arms were still clinging onto his shoulders and she held on tightly as he pulled out only to fill her again, and with a desperate moan, he kissed her hungrily. 

It didn’t take them long to find a rhythm. Mara met each of his thrusts, her head thrown back as she held onto him. 

“I’m not…” He faltered slightly as she lifted her head to look at him and he took in how dishevelled and passionate she looked,” …going to last long.” 

Her only response was to pull his face to hers, biting his lower lip. He felt one of her hands skim down between them, her fingers briefly touching him as they joined, making him stutter and drop his head to look. He watched her hand between them begin to touch herself, rubbing her clit as he made love to her. 

Mara’s moan made him focus on her face again; so close to his they were breathing each other in. Cullen stepped up his pace, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and on her as he grasped her hip with one hand, snapping his hips into her with deep strokes. He could feel her walls clenching and fluttering around him and the pleasure was building up so quickly – too quickly, probably, especially when she was looking at him like that, like he was the most precious thing in the world, and she arched against him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hand trapped between them. 

She kissed him again, wild and desperate, moaning his name into his mouth as she came around him, and finally Cullen let go, giving over to the pleasure as he released into her with a powerful orgasm that left him shaking and seeing stars. They held each other through their releases, and Cullen only stopped himself at the last minute from falling bodily onto Mara, remembering to brace himself on an arm so he didn’t crush her. 

He rested his head beside hers, trying to get his shaky breath under control. Mara languidly ran her fingers through his hair, her own breathing still rough. When he felt a little less like he was made out of jelly he raised himself up to press a kiss to her forehead, her cheek and then her lips, which curved under his. 

“I hope it was worth the wait,” he said, his voice still rough. 

“Hmmmm,” she all but purred back at him. “I think so, but we should do it again to be sure.” 

He smirked at her, before he pulled out and glanced around belatedly for something to wipe themselves off with. He reached over to grab the small towel beside the basin of water he used in the mornings and gently cleaned Mara up – who watched him fondly the whole time before stretching out like a sleepy cat – and then himself. He then drew them both under the blankets, where Mara lay on top of him, and he held her to him gladly. She kissed across his neck and then up his chin, stopping with a smile when she reached his mouth. 

“Did you miss me while I was fighting dragons?” 

His mouth twitched. “A little.” 

“I’d leave more often if I came back to a welcoming like that.” 

“I’d rather,” Cullen growled, “that you didn’t leave. And if you do, that you aren’t fighting dragons.” He paused. “How many dragons?”

“Two,” she answered with a shrug. 

He briefly shut his eyes before deciding not to dwell on it. She was here and she was unharmed. “And how did you find it? The fighting?”

Mara stretched slightly, and even though he was exhausted and satiated, Cullen could feel desire flaring up in him again. “I’m still very good at it,” she said archly before softening. “But… I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting.” 

He nodded, knowing she was talking about more than just physically fighting, and he tightened his arms around her. “The war won’t last forever,” his voice was quiet. “Hopefully soon… you won’t have to fight anymore.”

“And what of you?” she asked, tracing his face and the scar on his lip with a light finger.

“It’s still strange for me to think of the future and feel hopeful, but I do. I… would like to visit my family, and for you to come with me.” 

“I’d like that,” she said with a smile, and then yawned, turning away to cover her mouth. “I think you wore me out.” 

Cullen turned them so that they were laying on their sides facing each other, their noses brushing together. Night had almost completely fallen down, and neither of them had bothered to light any candles so the room was quickly growing dark. He traced a hand down her back. “I could say the same about you.” 

He could just make out her small, pleased smile. “I do love you, Cullen,” she said sleepily, yawning again.

“And I, you,” he replied kissing her forehead. Mara turned in his arms, slotting her back to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. Surrounded by her warmth and scent, he soon fell into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the future. 


	33. Chapter 33 – Kinloch Hold

**Kinloch Hold – Ten Years Ago**

 

It was in front of him. Again. The demon would not let up on its assault.

Cullen fell to his knees, holding his hands up to the Maker, looking for strength. “This trick again?” He moaned, trying to ignore his pounding head and rolling stomach. “I know what you are. It won’t work. I will stay strong!”

The demon frowned, feigning confusion. “Cullen? Don’t you recognise me?” 

“Only too well… how far they must have delved into my thoughts…” He clenched his eyes shut for a few seconds and when he opened them it was still there, along with a tattooed elf and a… qunari, of all things, behind the demon, whispering to each other, and also… Enchanter Wynne? What new trick was this? It was some kind of new trick, Cullen was sure. He would not fall for it.

“Enough visions! If anything in you is human, kill me now and stop this game.” He glared at the demon who was staring at him with those wide eyes that he’d thought… that’d he’d… “You broke the others but I will stay strong, for my sake… for theirs." He took a shuddering breath. "Sifting through my thoughts,  tempting me with the one thing I always wanted but could never have. Using my shame against me, my ill-advised infatuation with her, a mage, of all things! I am so tired of these cruel jokes… these tricks…” Cullen broke off, gasping for breath, and clutched his head in his hands. 

From behind the demon, the elf spoke, sounding amused. “Someone was quite the little heartbreaker when they were an apprentice. My, my.”

The demon turned to the elf with a glare; it seemed so much more eerily like Mara now that it sickened him. Before it had always had a wrongness about it. After admonishing the elf, it focused on Cullen again. “Stop it, Cullen. You’re embarrassing me.” At least when the demon was trying to tempt him with honeyed words and smiles, he knew Mara would never have spoken in such a way to him. 

But he would still never falter to a demon.

“Silence! I’ll not listen to anything you say. Now begone!” 

Once again, he clenched his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them and staggering to his feet. But the demon remained in front of him, with its strange companions.

“Still here?” Cullen shook his head. “But that’s always worked before. I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them.” He stared at the frowning Mara – was it her? Now he took in more details: she looked different. She was wearing similar armour to the Grey Warden who had recruited her, although it was dirty and bloodstained. She looked worn, tired, like she’d just come through a war. Which… if she’d fought her way through the tower, she likely had. “…Mara?” 

She raised her eyebrows, looking at him like he was an idiot. “Makes you wish you hadn’t said those things, doesn’t it?” 

Wynne stepped forward and put an arm on Mara’s shoulder. “Mara, perhaps now isn’t the time…” 

But Cullen didn’t want to hear a word from Wynne, and spoke over her, glaring right back at Mara. At the reason for his weakness. “I am beyond caring what you think! The Maker knows my sin, and I pray that he will forgive me.”

Mara shook off Wynne’s arm, stepping closer to the barrier that contained Cullen, eyes blazing. “There is nothing wrong with liking someone.”

“It was the foolish fancy of a naive boy. I know better now.” Mara scoffed, which he ignored. He shook his head, trying to clear it, still hoping in part that this Mara in front of him would disappear. When she still remained in front of him, Cullen finally realised that if she were truly here, and that their past… acquaintance was probably unimportant right now. “Why have you returned to the Tower? How did you survive?” 

She waved a hand dismissively. “Grey Warden business. When we got here, the tower was already overrun. We’re going to stop Uldred.” 

“Uldred,” he hissed. “What he’s done…what they’ve all done.” He shook his head again. “And to think that I once thought we were too hard on you.”

Mara frowned at him. “What?”

“Only mages have that much power at their fingertips. Only mages are so susceptible to the infernal whisperings of the demons.”

“This,” snapped Wynne, “is a discussion for another time.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, “but look what they’ve done to the tower. They deserve to die! Uldred most of all. They caged us like animals… looked for ways to break us. I’m the only one left.”

Mara and Wynne exchanged a heavy look. 

“Where are they?” asked Wynne.

“The Harrowing Chamber,” Cullen replied, shuddering. “The sounds coming down from there… Maker.” It would haunt him for the rest of his miserable and probably short life, he knew.

Mara turned to her companions. “That’s where we’re going. Prepare yourselves and remember – we save as many as we can with this Litany.”

Cullen wanted to howl at her words. “You can’t save them. You don’t know what they’ve become. You have to end it now, before it’s too late.”

Facing Cullen again, he watched her eyes drag across him. There was no lust or suggestiveness in it now. He wanted to think it might be concern, but he couldn’t allow himself that. He couldn’t allow himself to think of her at all. Finally, Mara coolly told him, “I’m not killing anybody who might be saved – Uldred is our target.”

Why could she not see what a mistake this was? They all had to be wiped out if there was any chance of survival. “Are you really saving anyone by taking this risk?” Cullen asked her. “To ensure this horror is ended, to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there.”

 This infection must be cleansed before it spreads.

“No,” she snapped in reply. “I can’t believe you’re even saying that, Cullen.” 

“Mara..” Wynne tried to intervene again, placing a hand on Mara’s arm that she angrily shrugged off. 

The qunari spoke up. “What he says makes sense, do not discard it out of hand.” His eyes were fixed on Cullen, begrudging admiration in them. “These mages are out of control.”

Folding her arms, Mara turned to the qunari. “It’s not that simple, Sten.”

“She is right,” said Wynne. “We can’t kill innocent people.”

The qunari rumbled noncommittally. “Perhaps,” he replied lowly, sounding unconvinced. 

Cullen turned his head away from them, antsy. Mara would do what Mara wanted and there was nothing he could do about it. “As you can see, I’m in no position to directly influence your actions.” He turned back to her with a glare. “Though I would love to deal with the mages myself.”

Both Wynne and Mara stared at him in dismay. Mara’s eyes dropped to the floor for a second, before she took a deep breath and raised her head, squaring her shoulders. 

“Let’s go,” she said to her companions, gesturing for them to start moving. Looking back at Cullen, she spoke briskly. “When Uldred is dead, you’ll be free. Until then… stay safe, Cullen.” 

He ignored the sudden softness in Mara’s voice, too hurt and broken and angry, and so completely helpless. She was making a mistake, and she was going to get them all killed.

He continued glaring at her. “No one ever listens,” he snapped. “Not until it’s too late. Maker turn his gaze on you. I hope your compassion hasn’t doomed us all.” 

Mara scoffed, steadying her staff and taking a step away. She paused again, like she was going to say something else, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned on her heel and marching towards the Harrowing chamber, quickly catching up with her companions. 

When they disappeared, Cullen slumped against the wall, sliding down it. All too soon he could hear the sounds of fighting: a clash of swords, the screeching of abominations, shouting. He shut his eyes tight, sensing the fizz of powerful magic even from a distance. Shuddering, he clasped his hands over his ears, curling into a ball and wishing he could block all his senses and become numb to the destruction of his whole world. 

 

\---

 

Cullen didn’t know how long how long he lay there, praying for salvation. He was so focused on his prayer, trying to block out everything around him, that he wasn’t aware when the noises from above stopped, or when the barrier around him fell.

He was suddenly hauled upright, and Cullen gasped, expecting this to be a new attack by the demon. But instead he was faced with the qunari that had been with Mara, who was looking at Cullen with an unimpressed expression. 

“It is over,” the qunari said evenly, setting Cullen on his feet and stepping away. 

To his surprise Cullen saw Mara leading the First Enchanter down the steps from the Harrowing chamber. Irving was leaning heavily on her, but he was alive. Behind him, there were a number of other mages, and Cullen’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes flitted from one mage to another. 

How could Mara let them go so easily? How did she know these mages weren’t abominations? 

With trepidation, Cullen followed the group back down through the tower, picking their way through the bodies.

He bit his lip hard, trying to quell the feelings rising up in him; the revulsion, the terror, the _anger_ that this had happened. His eyes dance over the mages walking in front of him, knowing that at any second _any_ of them could turn on them.

They couldn’t be trusted. 

When they made it to the ground floor, Cullen was beyond relieved to see the Knight Commander, and he pushed his way through the mages, determined to make Greagoir understand the danger.

But the Knight Commander dismissed Cullen’s concern, willing to take the word of Irving that all was well and the surviving mages could be trusted. Irving! A mage who had been up there with Uldred.

It made Cullen feel sick.

He turned away, angry, throwing himself onto a bench in the corner, dropping his head into his hands. He was aware of Mara talking in the distance, some arrangement being made, but Cullen didn't care.

For some time, no-one came near him as he sat, shivering in his corner. Cullen wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

“Cullen.” Mara’s voice directly in front of him made Cullen start with surprise and then he wanted to sob. Shaking his head, he tightened his grip in his hair, his gauntlets digging into his scalp.

“Leave me,” he whispered brokenly. 

He heard her take a sharp inhale of breath, but she said nothing else. But he was still aware of her there, just in front of him, within touching distance.

And he knew she was going to touch him. When it came, it was as light as a feather, a brief touch along the back of his head, avoiding his hands which were still clenched in his hair. 

This time, he couldn’t hold in the sob, and Mara sighed, a heavy, weary sound. The gentle touch at the back of his head disappeared, and so did she. 

He doesn’t even lift his head when the doors are opened for the Grey Warden to leave, even though he will most likely never see her again. Once again, she was leaving, and this time, it was easier to accept the words that Greagoir had sent to him the first time Mara had left the Circle – that this was probably for the best.


	34. Chapter 34 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

Cullen was striding by the training ring when a flash of dark hair caught his attention. He paused so abruptly, the messenger jogging by his side who had been yammering on about some diplomatic tea party Josephine expected him to attend took a few seconds to register the Commander had stopped moving, and also pulled himself to a stop, hovering uncertainly.

Stepping closer to the training ring, Cullen quickly realised it wasn’t Mara he had seen. Instead, Leah was in the ring, her magical sword shimmering as she sparred with a man Cullen recognised as one of Skyhold's templars.

He frowned and decided to watch. Leah was good. So was the templar. It was obvious both were holding back – they were just training after all – but it wasn’t often a knight enchanter was seen in Skyhold’s training ring, and a few people were lingering, watching the proceedings.

Cullen’s gaze trailed over them, a smile involuntarily crossing his face when he spotted Mara amongst the faces. She didn’t notice him, gaze intent on the fight in front of her. There was a crease between her eyebrows, but otherwise her face gave nothing away. 

Quietly, he edged around the circle until he was behind her. As he leaned down to speak into her ear, he was surprised to feel a jab at his ribs just as Mara turned her head towards him sharply, a furious expression on her face. 

It dropped when she saw him, and she withdrew her elbow with a wince. Cullen was wearing armour, so she had come off worse in that exchange.

“What–”

Mara interrupted him, muttering, “I didn’t realise it was you.” She turned her head back towards the mage and templar circling each other in the ring, with the sounds of moving feet and swords clashing ringing out and covering their conversation. Cullen saw her rub her elbow, grimacing. 

“Strike first, ask questions later?” 

She turned her head towards him again, catching his eye. “I thought a stranger was trying to press themselves against me. An elbow was a polite response.” 

That was fair enough, Cullen supposed, and filed away the knowledge to not sneak up on Mara in future. “I’m sorry, I should have considered.” 

“It’s fine.” Her eyes had drifted back to the sparring, but her head remained turned towards Cullen. “You can press yourself against me now.”

Cullen laughed, louder than he intended, catching a few glances from the people around him. But he duly stepped closer to her, side to side, his shoulder brushing against hers. He took her hand in his own. “Is this alright?” 

Her fingers curled around his gloved hand, and Cullen could see the small smile on her face that she was fighting. “I suppose.”

They fell silent for a few moments, turning their attention back to the sparring, and Mara leaned into him, making a smile cross Cullen’s face too. 

Leah and the templar were obviously sparring to pre-established rules, and she had just gotten the templar to yield. Cullen ran a critical eye over both their forms, taking in their forms, their strengths and weaknesses. Leah was being wasted cooling her heels in Skyhold, he thought.

“She’s good,” Mara said with a proudness that made his smile return. 

“She is,” he agreed. “Did you ever consider becoming a Knight Enchanter?” He could picture Mara, wielding the magic blade, facing her enemies on a battlefield. 

Mara shook her head with a short laugh, like the idea was ridiculous. Cullen wanted to ask more but Leah forced the templar to yield again and she began applauding her sister, who looked over at them with a grin before helping the templar to his feet. They began chatting, seemingly done with sparring, and Mara turned more fully towards Cullen. 

“I’ve been thinking about the other night a lot,” she murmured, tightening her hold on his hand. 

“So have I,” he replied, his voice low. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday morning after they’d made love for the first time and to say he’d been a bit distracted since then would be an understatement – even with the Inquisitor’s judgement of Blackwall.

Trevelyan had set Blackwall – or Rainier – free. Cullen had watched her struggle to maintain her composure as she did it. 

It was the only thing anyone was talking about, and Cullen was still trying to figure out how he felt about it, but it was hard to see beyond his anger at Blackwall’s actions.

“Mara!” Leah appeared at her side, making them draw apart. Mara shot Cullen a rueful glance before turning to her sister. 

Leah was flushed from sparring, her face bright, and she was beaming at Mara. “I didn’t realise you were here, were you watching?” She caught sight of Cullen and her grin spread wider, her voice taking on a sly edge. “Hello, Commander. Are you having a _satisfying_ day?”

Cullen frowned at her question. “I–”

Mara glared at Leah. “Stop.” 

He looked between the sisters, at Leah’s smirk and Mara’s glare and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Mara’s hand had gone lax against his, so he tightened his grip on her. She glanced at him and he was surprised to see the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

“I’m sure it’s all the more satisfying for having seen you, Mara. Wouldn’t you say, Cullen?” Leah continued, unbothered by Mara’s annoyance. 

“Well, yes,” he answered, because it was true.  

“She’s being a brat, just ignore her,” said Mara, with an eye roll.

Leah laughed. “Anyway, what do you think of Josef?” She nodded towards the templar who she’d been sparring with, who seemed to feel their eyes on him across the sparring ring and looked over, clearly surprised to see the eyes of the Commander of the Inquisition on him. He looked away in a hurry. 

“Eh. A templar?” Mara said, sounding unimpressed. 

“He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Cullen gauged Mara’s reaction. Her face scrunched up. “I suppose. If you like… that.” 

Leah laughed again. “Templars? Clearly, you do.” 

“Just one templar,” Mara replied easily. “It’s not a habit.” She glanced sidelong at Cullen with a smile, who was quietly enjoying watching the two sisters interact. Leah never seemed bothered by her older sister’s prickliness.

The bells rang, halting the conversation and signalling that it was mid-morning. Mara turned to Cullen. “I have to go, I’m running late thanks to inane conversations about templars that, quite frankly, are not worth the time.” She shot a look at Leah who opened her mouth to retort. “And I’m _not_ referring to Cullen.” 

“Never thought you were, sister!”

With a quick press of her lips to Cullen’s cheek and a wave at Leah, Mara was shouldered her staff and took off across the courtyard. Cullen watched her go, thoughtful, before turning to Leah.

Leah was staring at Cullen. “You really do love her, don’t you?”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question. “Yes, I do.”

“She told me, last night. I was trying to get more details about it but she told me that it was satisfying and to shut up. So I was just trying to see if I could fluster her before, hope you didn’t mind.”

“Ah… no.” Cullen decided not to tell Leah that out of him and Mara, it would be _him_ that would get flustered far quicker than Mara. Even just knowing she’d spoken to Leah like that made him feel flustered. _Satisfying_? It had been much more than that.

“She seems happy.” Leah turned pensive, looking in the direction Mara had left. “But then I remember that I don’t know her well and…” She raised one shoulder carelessly, reminding him of Mara. 

“I hope she is,” he murmured. “And you know her better than you think.” Mara had quickly opened up to Leah in a way he hadn’t seen her do with anyone else in Skyhold. 

Leah remained thoughtful. “She doesn’t talk too much about it, no matter how much I ask, but she’s had a hard time of it, hasn’t she? Before.”

He nodded.

“Well,” she said, more brightly. “She has me now. And you, I suppose.” That last bit was said with a smirk that Cullen only raised his eyebrow at. 

The messenger who had been walking with Cullen before he’d gotten distracted finally approached him. “Commander? I really do need a response for Lady Montilyet,” he said hesitantly, and Cullen took his leave of Leah.

She sent him off with a wave and a call of, “Have a satisfying day, Commander!”, that turned a few heads. 

When he glared at Leah, she just laughed, and he realised both Amell sisters were immune to the glowering looks that worked on his recruits.

 

\---

 

Cullen sought out Mara later that evening, finding her still in the infirmary. She wasn’t with a patient, but was seated at a table, grinding herbs. Cullen strode over to her, calling out a greeting when he got close.

Mara glanced up, her face easing into a tired smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes when she saw him. The apron she wore over her clothes was splattered with blood, and he guessed she had lost someone today. She didn’t often talk about it, but he could see the strain on her when she wasn’t able to save someone.

Mara’s eyes dropped to his hands, which were each holding a large mug. 

“May I join you?” Cullen asked, and she nodded. 

He sat on the bench opposite her, placing the mugs down carefully at a safe distance from her grinding. “It’s hot cocoa. Courtesy of Varric.”

Perking up, Mara reached for the mug and took a sip. “Thank you, this is lovely.” 

“My pleasure.” He watched her for a moment, enjoying his own drink. “How was your day?”

Mara’s eyes dropped. “Not good. Demon wounds are tricky and it wasn’t adequately treated on the field.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

She shrugged, still looking down into her cocoa. “I don’t know if I should be here.” Cullen’s heart stopped and then picked up double time, the cocoa suddenly tasting foul in his mouth. He’d thought she’d gotten over that? Was she going to leave? 

Mara continued, unaware of the sudden turmoil he was experiencing. “I could be of more use in the field.”

_Thank the Maker._

Cullen got himself under control. “There’s always going to be someone you can’t heal, whether you are at Skyhold or not.” 

“I know.” Her hands grasped around her mug, clutching it tightly. 

He decided to distract her by asking a question he’d had for a while. “Why did you decide to become a Spirit Healer?” 

She seemed surprised by the question, and searched his face for a moment before answering, glancing down at her cocoa.

“A spirit approached me,” she began carefully. She peeked up at him again, perhaps gauging his reaction. But Cullen knew how Spirit Healers drew their power. He’d long since accepted that Mara had bonded with a spirit. 

Mara continued, focusing again on her drink. “It wasn’t long after I’d become a Grey Warden. She told me she’d been watching me for some time. I told her to bugger off.” 

Cullen couldn’t help but grin. Of course she had. “What kind of spirit?”

“Fortitude, “ Mara answered with some satisfaction. 

“Ah.” That seemed appropriate. “I suppose she returned.”

“Yes. She is not called such because she gives up easily. She told me she wanted to help people, and had been searching for a mage to work with. She’d noticed me while I was in the Circle, but she said she had no time for a mage stuck in a cage.” Mara paused and looked back up at Cullen again with a wry smile. “I think she has delusions of grandeur. Anyway, Fortitude decided that since I had become a Grey Warden and survived Ostagar, I was destined for a great fate. I told her to bugger off again.”

Mara finished her cocoa and placed her mug to the side, before she got back to grinding her herbs. Cullen watched in silence, letting her gather her thoughts, still sipping his own cocoa as the bitter scent of elfroot drifted towards him.

After a moment, Mara went on. “When you become a Grey Warden, it connects you to the darkspawn. I was mostly having dreams about the archdemon and the horde. Well, no, not exactly dreams, more like…”

“Nightmares?” Cullen supplied.

She shook her head. “More like a vision. More like seeing through a darkspawn’s eyes. It was like being in the middle of the horde, down in the Deep Roads, drawn to the archdemon. It was so vivid, you could smell it.” Her shoulders hunched at the memory. It made Cullen want to reach out and comfort her, but Mara quickly recovered and straightened up. “Anyway. When I wasn’t dreaming of darkspawn, Fortitude was there, asking questions, or shaping the Fade around us to test me. I think if I’d agreed too quickly to work with her, she’d never have picked me. Eventually, we came to an agreement and it’s worked out well for both of us. ”

Mara inspected her bowl, satisfied, and began shifting the ground herbs into a vial full of liquid. Cullen watched as she heated it with magic. “I think she realised, even before I did, how much killing bothered me. I did it because I had to and I became good at it, and I’ll no doubt do it again, but it seemed like everyone around me all said it would get easier. It didn’t. Even Alistair couldn’t seem to understand, and he was usually pretty good at that.” 

The mention of the king distracted Cullen. “Were you close with him?” After the end of the Blight, there had been rumours and stories about the Hero and her companions that had reached Kirkwall, including whispers that she and the King had been in a relationship. But there were also rumours she’d been in a relationship with all of her companions, including the qunari, so Cullen never put much thought into it. 

“We became friends, eventually. It took… some time. And then I recruited Loghain and that was the end of that.” Mara raised an eyebrow at him. “It was never more than that, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“I… well.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling himself redden. “I was just curious, I know it was a long time ago. And he is the king, after all.” 

She smirked, inserting a long, thin spoon into the vial, mixing the ingredients. “No, not interested in kings. Just Commanders, apparently.” 

“Yes,” he replied dryly. “I hear they’re very satisfactory.” 

The hand stirring the potion paused and her eyes flicked up at him. “I hope you aren’t letting Leah wind you up.” 

Cullen had finished his drink by now, and set it on the table before leaning back slightly, crossing his arms. He regarded her in silence, keeping his face passive, hiding his amusement when she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I only said it because she wouldn’t stop asking questions. She knew something had happened.”

“How did she know that?” 

“Oh, she said I looked happy, which is apparently unusual enough for her to remark upon.” With a final swirl, Mara grabbed a cork, topping the vial and placing it on a shelf with some others. Picking up a towel, she wiped off her hands and removed her apron. “She thought it hilarious when I said I had a _satisfactory_ night. I just wanted her to stop talking.” 

“Well, it’s not the first word I would have used to describe it…” He trailed off as Mara approached him.

“Is your manhood insulted, Cullen?” She asked with a fluttering of her eyelids.

He laughed. “Maker, no. I was there. I know it was much more than… satisfactory.” As Mara dipped her head down towards him, he lifted his own in response. She kissed him sweetly, and too shortly for his liking. 

“How would you describe it then?” She murmured against his lips.

“Oh… I. Well,” Cullen was suddenly flustered, partially at what she was asking and partially at her close proximity. Instead, he kissed her again, this time sliding his tongue against her lips, encouraging her to open for him. She did, eagerly, slipping a hand into his hair. Cullen lost himself in the kiss for a few minutes, and it was only when Mara’s gripped tightened in his hair and he groaned that he remembered where they were. He drew back, chest heaving, and stood up, holding Mara’s waist to steady her.

He glanced around. There wasn’t much light left, and not many people were around. Mara appeared to be finished her work. “How about I show you instead?” 

She grinned. “Sounds good, Commander.” She took his hand and began tugging him towards the stairs. Cullen followed her willingly, but they were both surprised to stumble upon the Inquisitor and Blackwall, making their way down the stairs. 

“Inquisitor!” All four of them halted on the steps, a little awkwardly. Cullen swallowed down the flash of anger he felt just at seeing Blackwall. 

“Commander.” Trevelyan replied, looking from him to Mara. “We were just…” She trailed off with a glance towards Blackwall, and Cullen saw a grin cross Mara’s face before she schooled herself. 

“Are you off to have a satisfying evening, Inquisitor?” She asked innocently. Cullen tried to not raise his eyes to the sky. 

Trevelyan looked at Mara suspiciously, before her gaze dropped to where her hand was joined with Cullen’s. She raised an eyebrow at him, but Cullen didn’t let go.  

“Warden,” Blackwall spoke gravely to Mara. Her expression flattened immediately. “I–”

“I’m not a Warden any more than you are, Blackwall,” she said coolly, obviously not wanting to hear what he had to say. “So I don’t need to hear anything.” 

“I…” Blackwall’s jaw clenched. So did Trevelyan’s, Cullen noticed. “Very well, Lady Amell.” 

“Oh, I’m no Lady either,” she said emphatically. “Just a mage.” 

“Indeed,” said Trevelyan, eyeballing Mara who gave her a barbed smile in return.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen interjected, desperately wanting to get away from this awkward conversation. “Have a pleasant evening.” He took a step, hinting to Mara to move, but she remained where she was. 

Trevelyan nodded at Cullen. “Goodnight, Commander. Mara.” 

With that, she and Blackwall continued down the steps. Mara’s neck craned around Cullen, watching them leave. “Are they going to the _barn_? Doesn’t she have a fancy room?” Cullen shushed her, afraid the Inquisitor would hear. 

“She’s the _Inquisitor_ , Mara.”

“She’s also a woman. It does no good to place people on pedestals.” 

Mara dropped his hand, continuing up the stairs. Cullen followed, thinking about her words. She’d know what it was like to be placed on a pedestal. He still thought the Inquisitor should be viewed with the utmost respect, though. Trevelyan had earned that, and more.

“I don’t think she’ll be taking me to slay more dragons, you’ll be pleased to hear.” Mara said lightly as they walked through the upper courtyard towards the steps that would take them to Cullen’s office. “I don’t think she likes my company.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “I can’t imagine why,” he said sarcastically. 

They continued in silence until they reached his office. Mara went in ahead of him, but as soon as Cullen closed the door, she crowded him and he found himself pressed between her and the wall. It wasn’t the worst place to be. 

Stretching up, she brushed her lips against his. “Can we forget about everything outside this room until morning?” 

His hands came to rest on her hips, holding her close. “That sounds… incredible,” he answered honestly. 

“Good.” She pulled out of his hold and made her way across the room to the steps leading up to his bedroom. As she climbed up, she called out, “Are you coming?” 

Cullen’s certain he’s never moved as quick before in his life.


	35. Chapter 35 – Skyhold

**Skyhold**

 

 

The war didn’t last forever.

That’s not to say it was won without loss or hardship. But it was _won_. Corphyeus was defeated.

The Inquisitor returned to Skyhold, a hero and a legend. By her side was Thom Rainier, a free man, standing proudly at her side. 

Nobles flocked to Skyhold ready to celebrate and rub shoulders with a hero, and Josephine valiantly accommodated them all and arranged masques and balls with an emphasis on honouring the sacrifices made by many to make it happen. Cullen suffered through many awkward evenings, his status as Commander meaning his presence was required. Mara, who disliked events such as this almost as much as Cullen, still accompanied him frequently. And her sister made sure to tag along, delighting in the pomp of the nobles, ingratiating herself in a way that impressed Mara and unsettled Cullen, both of them watching on as Leah collected kisses and broke hearts. 

It was in the midst of these balls that Mara and Cassandra forged a friendship in a way that left Cullen bemused. He stood by as Mara wore down Cassandra’s frostiness to her with suggestive flirting and winning smiles until finally Cassandra thawed.

“Do you dance, Cassandra?” It was a particularly long evening hosting a variety of Ferelden nobles. Mara was holding onto Cullen’s arm, but her attention was all on Cassandra. He’d be bothered by it if he didn’t get the impression that Mara really wanted Cassandra to like her – not that she’d ever say that out loud, he knew. But he'd never seen her bother to engage someone the way she did Cassandra... unless he counted himself, back when they were young.

“Not if I can help it, usually.” Cassandra sipped her drink, looking out over the crowd with studied indifference.

“A shame,” replied Mara with a sly tone. “I was just about to ask you.” 

“Then you are to be disappointed,” was the stiff reply, before Cassandra warmed up slightly, looking at her curiously. “Wouldn’t you rather dance with Cullen?”

With all seriousness, Mara responded, “I was thinking that the three of us could hold hands and dance around in a circle, ring-a-ring-o-roses style.” Cullen raised his eyes upwards and tried to hide his smile.

Cassandra stared at her like she’d lost her mind before directing her gaze at Cullen. “Cullen, I question your taste in women.” But she had a tiny smile that expanded when Mara laughed. 

Cullen looked fondly at Mara. “Truthfully, Cassandra, so do I.” Mara raised her gaze to his, her eyes warming as she curled into him. 

Cassandra watched them both with unabashed interest and, Cullen thought, some wistfulness. He knew she was a romantic at heart. 

“Everyone’s a critic,” Mara murmured as she scanned the crowd. She spotted someone and brightened. “I’m going to check in with Leah. She was going to see how many marriage proposals she could get in one night, but I think she expected more Orlesians to be here.” With that, she gave Cullen a kiss and disappeared into the throng. 

Cullen stepped closer to Cassandra, the pair of them leaning against the wall, shoulder to shoulder. 

There was a beat of silence.

“I suppose she is not as bad as I thought,” Cassandra finally said, begrudgingly. 

“Such high praise, Cassandra,” Cullen replied dryly, but with a smile in his voice. 

Cassandra just gave a grunt of acknowledgement, but didn’t immediately reply. Her gaze was now on the Inquisitor, who was standing by Josie’s side, conversing with two nobles. She nodded towards the group, directing Cullen’s attention. “All eyes will remain on the Inquisitor, to see what she does next.”

He nodded. The war was over, but the Inquisition was still needed. The organisation was powerful and riding high on the defeat of Corypheus. But there remained much work to be done – rifts still dotted the countryside, and not everywhere was at peace. Leliana had recently been declared the new Divine, and would be preparing to take up her role as Divine Victoria in a few months. Cullen knew there were already whispers of the Inquisition being too powerful, and that the new Divine would merely be an Inquisition puppet.

Like Leliana would let anyone control her.

They would have to make sure they were still seen as a force for good, but knowing Trevelyan, Cullen didn’t have any worries about that. Even her pardon of Blackwall hadn’t done too much damage to her reputation, a combination of her nobility protecting her from harsher criticism, along with the fact that no one could deny the Inquisitor’s varied and much talked about good deeds. People liked her, and she remained their Herald of Anstraste.

 

\---

 

Day to day life in Skyhold didn’t change much for Cullen, although everyone was distinctly lighter without the threat hanging above them.

He and Mara continued to slowly move forward, haphazardly. Occasionally he felt like they might be moving backwards or just completely out of step with each other, heading in different directions.

But he loved her, and he treasured every moment with her. It turned out, not to his surprise, that Mara wasn’t one for declaring her love for him often, but he felt it in the way she looked at him, and how she kissed him – like he was her salvation. 

She still split her nights between Cullen’s tower and the room she shared with her sister. Cullen wanted to ask her to stay with him permanently, but he was unwilling to ask her to step away from her growing relationship with Leah. Mara even grew to enjoy the company of the other mages in their tower to a certain extent, possibly due to Leah’s influence and amicable attitude. She became less isolated.

But Cullen missed her on the nights she wasn’t there, and often when she was, they’d be interrupted by various factors. He could only hope that someday they would have more time together.

Months slipped by, and the Inquisitor remained in high demand and the Inquisition resources were needed as much as ever, despite the peace. Thedas was ever restless.

Leah continued her search for the rest of their family, with Mara’s support and aided by Leliana. 

They discovered that their brother, Oren, had been at the Dairsmuid Circle – killed with all the rest of the mages when the Rite of Annulment was invoked during the War. 

Mara had taken it stoically, a weary acceptance of more death in her life. While she internalised it, Leah’s grief was more outwardly obvious. Mara held her while she wept and railed at how unfair it was, and then Cullen held Mara when she sought his arms for comfort and distraction. 

Mara already knew that her twin, Elijah, had been at Ostwick, from that one letter she’d received from him years ago. Now, they were able to discover more. He’d rebelled along with so many others and they were left trying to track him down by following a trail of breadcrumbs, but any news they could find of him was months old. Still, Leah persevered, and even after Leliana left to take up her role as Divine, she helped the Amell sisters in any way she could. 

Of their remaining brother, Alexander, they could find nothing, not even which Circle he'd been at, but with the destruction of so many Circles, countless records had been destroyed. Mara considered they’d been fortunate to find out as much as they had – and that had only been down to Leliana’s assistance.

Cullen found no time to visit his family, but he became better at keeping up his correspondence with them. Mia and Mara even started exchanging letters.

Through it all, Cullen could see the future he wanted, once his duty to the Inquisition was done: Mara, his family, a home. 

And then he risked it all when he asked her to marry him.

 

\---

 

He thought about it a lot. He wanted to make Mara his wife and he saw no point in waiting.

He just wasn’t sure _how_ to ask her. 

Cullen considered a number of factors. He should probably go to Val Royeaux and get a ring. But then… Mara didn’t wear jewellery. Would she wear a betrothal ring? Would she even want one? 

Anyway, the chances of him going to Val Royeaux to buy a ring and Mara not finding out about it were slim. 

He supposed they could discuss it after she, hopefully, said yes.

The idea of her saying yes filled him with such happiness and excitement, that he knew he had to push past his nervousness and ask her, soon.

He tried to make a plan.

 

\---

 

He ruined the plan.

One morning they were making love. Mara had woken Cullen up with her hands and mouth, and eventually straddled him, sinking down onto his length. Cullen gripped her hips and allowed her to set a languid pace, enjoying not only the feel of her but also the sight of her above him, as his eyes followed her wild hair that spilled down over her breasts, and then continued on down her stomach to where they were joined. As their passion increased, their movements grew more frantic, and Mara’s eyes closed as she came with a moan, and then she leaned down to kiss Cullen breathlessly as he continued to buck up into her. 

It wasn’t long before he was spilling into her, white-hot pleasure flashing through him, and his arms slid up her hips to tangle in her hair.

“Marry me, Mara.” Cullen wasn’t even aware he’d said the words at first, still feeling the effects of his release. It took him a moment to realise not only what he’d just said, but also that Mara seemed to have frozen in his arms. 

He opened his eyes to met her wild gaze, inches away from him. When she sat up, Cullen let his hands drop to his sides as he swallowed heavily.

“I–I didn’t meant to just blurt that out…”

“Then why did you?” Mara asked in a demanding tone. She was looking at him in a way that reminded him of the worst arguments they’d had, shortly after she’d gotten to Skyhold, and his stomach dropped, anxiety entirely wiping away any afterglow of their lovemaking.

But he took a deep breath, and answered calmly. “Because I want to marry you.”

She turned away from him, tossing her head to the side with an incredulous sounding scoff. “That’s…” She trailed off, before swiftly detangling herself from him and standing up. “That’s…” She kept shaking her head as she blindly grabbed at her clothes, while Cullen watched her, beyond dismayed by her reaction.

“That’s _what_ , Mara?” An edge crept into his voice, but he could feel himself getting frustrated. He focused on that, rather than how hurt her reaction made him.

“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped in reply, yanking her trousers up her legs.

“Ridiculous?” Cullen was appalled. “What exactly is ridiculous about asking the woman I love to marry me?” 

“Everything!” Her tone was abrasive, and she threw her hands up. “We haven’t even spoken about it before and…” She trailed off as she pulled on her tunic. “And…” 

“And _what_?” He said again, by now also dragging on his clothes. He stood, lacing up his trousers. “All you have to do is say _no_ , Mara, you don’t have to act like the idea is so terrible.” The sinking feeling of disappointment threatened to engulf him. 

“And what if we have children?”

Cullen froze, his eyes snapping from his trousers to her face. He was taken aback by the sudden question. Mara’s posture was defensive, her arms crossed.

He frowned. “I–I would like to have children.” As he said the words he realised something very obvious – this was something they should have spoken about before. In fact, it hadn’t been brought up since that brief mention in an argument, many months ago. It was a tense subject, sometimes vaguely alluded to, but never properly discussed.

But he’d thought about it, a lot, and he’d guess that Mara had too, especially when some of the mages in Skyhold married and had children, or when she helped deliver a little girl and the parents named the new child after her. 

He continued, more confident. “I would like to have children with you.” 

“And what if I can’t?”

“Can’t have children?”

“Yes,” she said with a challenge. “I carried the taint for a long time. I think I should be able to but… there’s no knowing what damage it did. There’s no guarantee.”

“There’s no guarantee, regardless. And I still want to be with you, with or without children.” He stepped towards her.

She seemed to deflate slightly, and her shoulders sagged. Her eyes met his imploringly. “And if we do have a child, and they’re a mage?” 

Cullen had thought about this a lot too. “Then we make sure they learn how to use their powers.” He grabbed her hands. “I know it’s a possibility, but I’ve considered it. I’m not scared.”

She shook her head, pulling away. Her voice raised and shook. “I am not sending my child to a Circle!” For a split second Cullen was stung. Did she really think he’d send his own child away? But then he looked closely at her. Mara had that look in her eye that he hadn’t seen since the last time this topic had come up. Like a wild animal, afraid it was going to be caged.

And, well, she had been caged. 

“I know,” he said softly, reaching out for her again. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and let him embrace her. “I don’t mean a Circle. I meant a place more like the mage tower at Skyhold. That is a place of learning, as well as a sanctuary for the mages. But they have their freedom.” She relaxed slightly and Cullen felt guilty that he’d never brought the subject up before mentioning marriage. Considering what she’d told him of her family, the idea of her own child being torn away from her must be a fear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have thought about this and I should have – we should have talked about it. I–” He trailed off, unsure about what to say. 

Mara pulled away, pacing around what little floor space his bedroom had. “This shouldn’t be so complicated!” She shouted, before whirling back around to glare at Cullen. “I can’t even just say yes to you asking to marry me. I don’t even know why you’d want to marry and have children with someone who’s so…” She took another deep breath and then looked away from him. “So scared.”

“It’s alright to be sca–” Cullen began but she interrupted him.

“No it isn’t!” She was still shouting. “It makes no sense and I just can’t stop it. I can’t stop thinking that this is just… some Fade dream. I want to marry and I want to have your children but I can’t.” This time, when Cullen embraced her, she let him. “I can’t,” she repeated, her voice much quieter now, muffled by his chest. 

Cullen’s heart broke a little bit for her. “I wish… I wish you would let yourself be happy,” he said softly. It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words to her. But he could understand – he’d been like this himself.

He worried she’d never move on from her years of loneliness and her long-held anger. Even then, this was enough, her with him. She’d been patient with him and understood the side effects of his lyrium withdrawal, something which still incapacitated him often, and left him in pain and irritable. He was still, sometimes, embarrassed by how she took care of him. But while she’d always have a biting retort for him if he took his bad mood out on her, she’d never given any hint that it was something she couldn’t handle. She never complained about helping him – no, Mara took care of him.

She may not often say out loud that she loved him, but Cullen never doubted that she did. Her actions spoke louder than her words.

He could only do what she did for him, and be her support when she needed it.

Mara held on to him, but she didn’t cry. She just took a number of deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Can we– can we table marriage for now? It’s not a no, just a ‘not yet’.” She pulled back to look up at him, and he could see she’d gotten herself under control.

He nodded. “I can accept that.” And he could. Despite the shouting and irritability, Cullen knew Mara’s negative feelings were directed at herself – Cullen could understand it wasn’t a rejection of him, even if this wasn’t the answer he’d hoped to get, and he was still stung by her reaction. He’d also come to realise that she didn’t always deal very well with change and that he probably shouldn’t have brought up the topic of marriage before asking her out of the blue. He considered the fact that she didn’t leave and was honest with him a mark of how far they’d come. With a smile that came easier than expected, he kissed her forehead, and swallowed his disappointment as best he could. It wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but… “I’ll wait for you.” 

She relaxed in his arms, murmuring her thanks, but then she winced. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about marriage it’s just… when you said it, I realised… I’m not ready. I might not ever be ready.” 

“And that’s fine,” he replied gravely. “We don’t need to get married.” 

Mara rested her hands on his bare chest before sliding them up to his neck. “You know I’m yours either way, though, don’t you?”

Cullen smiled at her, relieved that it came easier than expected. “It’s always good to hear you say it.” He was glad to see her smile back, and he dipped his head down for a kiss. 

Mara kissed him back, eagerly, and Cullen relaxed into her, holding her close. 

This was enough. No, this was more than enough. To simply have Mara in his arms – it was everything.


	36. Chapter 36 – The Winter Palace – Two Years Later

**The Winter Palace – Two Years Later**

 

The Exalted Council was quickly turning into a disaster.

Cullen was beyond weary. He felt like he’d spent nearly every moment since arriving at the Winter Palace putting out fires. Although, as he made his way back to his room after a very long day, he considered that it hadn’t been all bad. 

He glanced down at his new companion, hoping that Mara didn’t mind that he was bringing back a mabari.

When he reached their room, he was pleased to see she was already there, although when she stood to greet him with a worried look on her face, he guessed she’d heard about the qunari corpse that had been found earlier that day. He stepped inside, his new mabari friend bounding in ahead of him.

“Cullen, you –” Mara closed and then opened her mouth again when she saw the dog, who came to a stop in the middle of the room. The dog was watching Mara, still and silent, the two of them having a stare down. Finally, she asked, “Did you adopt a mabari?” 

“Well, I think with a mabari, it’s more like they adopt you.” Cullen replied, a little unsure about how this was going.

“Yes,” her voice was quiet, “that’s usually how it goes.” She knelt down to be level with the dog, and held out her hand. The mabari stepped forward for a good sniff and Cullen’s heart stopped for a second as she made a sudden lunge towards Mara. But the dog only licked her face, and Mara giggled – a sound he was _certain_ he’d never heard her make before – as she petted her. 

Mara sat down on the floor properly, and the mabari flopped onto her back, long legs sticking into the air, much like she had with Cullen earlier that day. Mara laughed again, and rubbed her belly, the dog squirming and making happy sounds the whole time. 

Cullen also sat down on the ground, close to Mara, and the dog gave a pleased bark when he started scratching her head. 

“Are you going to stay with us?” Mara cooed – downright cooed – making Cullen stare at her in disbelief, all thoughts of how much of a disaster the Exalted Council was turning into leaving his head. Even when Mara was at her nicest, she never even spoke to _him_ like that. Mara got a bark in reply to her words, and the small stubby tail thumped repeatedly against the ground. “I think that’s a yes,” she said to Cullen.

He laughed. “I believe so.” He watched her baby talk the dog for a few more minutes, then shook his head. “I can’t believe it.” 

She glanced at him. “What?”

“If I’d known all it took to soften you up was a dog, I’d have gotten one two years ago.” 

Mara took a moment to reply, her gaze downcast. “I used to have a mabari.” She glanced at Cullen, guessing his next question. “He– I got him at Ostagar, not long after the battle. He was with me for years until…” She trailed off, her expression growing sad, but she kept rubbing the mabari’s tummy, and the dog twisted her head around to look at Mara, as if sensing the change in mood. “We were in the Deep Roads, not long before I left Ferelden, actually, and everything went… bad.” Her chin trembled slightly and the dog gave a whine of commiseration. “He saved me and the others, and we managed to carry him out but…” Mara shrugged, blinking quickly, shaking away the memory. “His name was Corin – after the Hero of the Second Blight.” She kept mechanically petting the dog, and Cullen drew her against him. She sighed, leaning into him.

“I’m sorry you lost him,” he said quietly, although he was wondering if he’d ever learn all there was to know about Mara. Two years together and he was still finding out details like this in dribs and drabs. 

Her reply was just as quiet. “He was the best.” 

The dog sitting by them suddenly rolled over and inched forward so she could rest her head on Cullen’s leg, eyes flitting between the two of them with a mournful look. Mara gave a small laugh, and petted her head. “You’re the best, too.” She was rewarded with a quiet but pleased yelp.

“She needs a name,” Cullen stated, and there was a pause as they both stared at the dog, whose eyes continued to flit back and forth between them. 

“Any ideas?” asked Mara. 

“Are there any other notable Grey Wardens?” 

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “there’s me.” She laughed when Cullen made an exasperated noise.  “Yes, there’s plenty, but… you’d name her after a Grey Warden? After everything?”

“Yes,” he said with a smile, “Some Grey Wardens are heroes. I can’t imagine stopping a Blight is easy. There’s probably many mabari named after you.” Mara made a noncommittal sound and rolled her eyes. Cullen continued. “If I remember correctly, didn’t Corin have a lover?”

“Neriah. She was a mage. She threw herself in front of an attack from a darkspawn emissary at the Battle of Starkhaven, sacrificing herself but shielding Corin so he could take the final blow to kill the archdemon and end the Blight.” 

“A brave warrior, then,” Cullen said solemnly. “And one to be remembered.” The mabari gave a whine of agreement. “Shall we call you Neriah?” The dog leapt up and bounced excitedly from paw to paw. 

“Are you sure?” asked Mara, “Because once you’re named you’re stuck with it.” She laughed as once again the dog lunged forward to lick her face, and she wrapped her arms around the broad frame, giving the dog a hug. “Neriah it is, then.” 

Cullen watched her, the swelling emotion in him making it difficult not to blurt out the question he wanted to ask her. But he kept it in, knowing that Mara was dealing with enough change – and that she didn’t deal with change well. They’d come a long way together in the last two years, but he could see some of the uncertainty she’d held when she first arrived in Skyhold resurfaced. It had been difficult for her when Leliana had left to take up her new role as Divine Victoria. 

But the fact was: he still wanted to marry her. And he was pretty certain this time she would say yes. 

However, he didn’t want to scare her by asking her when all this was going on, and the Inquisition’s future was up in the air. 

And that’s not even to mention the argument they’d had the first time he’d asked. They’d worked through it, and had some conversations they really needed to, but getting turned down for marriage once – even though he understood why – made him a little wary to ask again.

And with that, the events of the day came rushing back to Cullen and he sighed. But before he could speak again, a knock at the door sounded. It was a servant with a late dinner, and some food for the newly named Neriah that Cullen had requested. They both moved to the table, picking at their meals.

“So,” began Mara. “A dead qunari?”

“It’s worse than that,” he replied glumly, before filling her in on the eluvian and the details of the Inquisitor’s trip to the crossroads. “She wanted to return straight away to the Crossroads, but Rainier convinced her to get some rest.” He finished with a grumble, “at least he’s good for something.” His anger towards the fake Warden had long since subsided, but Cullen found it hard to let go of completely. 

“This is going to get really bad, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, and Cullen knew she was right.

 

\---

 

It got worse.

The Inquisitor returned to the Crossroads after barely a couple of hours rest. Josephine was worried about her, and Cullen could see why. There was an edge almost of desperation radiating from Trevelyan, that only seemed to grow worse when they discovered the gaatlok being smuggled into the Winter Palace. 

The Exalted Council was officially a very huge disaster.

The Inquisitor took her party back into the Crossroads for the third time. Cullen spent some time with Josephine and Leliana, trying to figure out a way to deal with all this, before Josie needed to leave to placate the nobles, and Leliana left to check on her ravens. He double and triple checked security in the palace, received an update from the guards at the eluvian, monitored the safe removal of the gaatlok, and did a million other things. It probably wasn’t even nearly enough.

It was dark again when Cullen realised he hadn’t eaten all day. 

His head was _pounding_. 

As he passed through the halls to get some food, his mood wasn’t improved by the sight of Arl Teagan smiling – actually _smiling_. The man had spent the last few days with a permanent scowl on his face and now he was smiling. What’s more, he was smiling at _Mara_. 

Cullen paused. The Arl and Mara were standing at the foot of the grand stairs, and there were a number of people milling about as servants flitted to and fro. Plenty of guards were stationed here.

Mara’s head was tilted as she looked at the Arl, her long hair loose down her back, pulled away from her face. He could see the elegant line of her neck and the smile on her face that matched Teagan’s. 

He’d seen Mara flirt with plenty of men and women and it didn’t usually bother him because he knew her well enough to see that it wasn’t genuine. She was so _obviously_ not being genuine that he was surprised people didn’t realise. But something about this did bother him. Perhaps it was because he could see she was smiling at him sincerely, not with a smile he knew was fake, and with eyes that were warmer than usual. The unfamiliar feeling of jealousy uncurled in his stomach. _How did she even know him?_

“Hm,” Leliana’s voice quietly sounded beside him. “I see Mara is keeping up her time honoured tradition of flirting with Teagan. Perhaps she can make him more friendly to the Inquisition.”

Cullen glared at her, before remembering where he was and who she was and gave her an appropriate bow, trying to school his face. “Your Holiness,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth.

“Smile, Commander, it’s nothing serious. Mistress Amell saved Redcliffe during the Blight, and made Arl Teagan blush while doing so by flirting in an outrageous manner that I expect you’re familiar with. I believe they met a few times over the years when she served at Amaranthine.” Leliana stepped away from him, towards Mara and the Arl, beckoning Cullen to follow. He did so, slightly reluctantly.

“So you are no longer a Warden?” Teagan was asking Mara with interest. His eyes flicked to Leliana and Cullen as they approached, and a frown crossed his face. He gave a slight bow in greeting to Leliana.

“No, I serve the Inquisition as a healer,” Mara answered smoothly, smiling at Leliana and Cullen. 

“A commendable calling,” was Teagan’s stiff reply, still eyeing Cullen and Leliana, “though talented healers are required in many places – you would be most welcome at Redcliffe. You are still remembered fondly there. With the destruction of the Circles, Connor has also returned – he would be most pleased to see you.” 

“Thank you, Arl Teagan. I do hope Connor is doing well.”

“And I am sad to see the Hero of Ferelden serving the Inquisition.” The Arl continued on like she hadn’t spoken, and Cullen saw a brief flicker of annoyance cross Mara’s face. “His Majesty has been concerned that so many of his former friends serve an organisation that threatens his country, although he was, of course, pleased to your elevation to Divine, most Holy. He spoke often of your devoutness.” The last part was added in a rush to Leliana – antagonising the Divine too much wouldn’t work out well for Teagan. Leliana just gave a nod of her head in acknowledgement.

Mara’s smile became more forced. “You can assure King Alistair that neither his friends nor the Inquisition threaten his country. We all want peace.” 

“So you say.” Teagan’s reply had an edge. “Mistress Amell, Most Holy, Commander. I must be going. Have a pleasant evening.” With a deep bow to Leliana, Teagan turned and left. 

Mara’s smile dropped completely from her face. “Diplomacy is exhausting.”

“I hear you,” sighed Cullen. 

“Anything useful?” Leliana still had that bland pleasant look on her face.

Mara shook her head. “He was more interested in talking about me. He was perfectly pleasant until you two arrived. That’s when he got huffy.” 

“Perhaps we should not have interrupted.” Cullen scowled at Leliana’s remark. “Do you think he still holds a flame for you?”

Cullen’s frown deepened. 

Mara shrugged. “I don’t think so. I got the impression he was just relieved to talk to somebody about something other than politics for a moment. Anyway, isn’t he married now?”

Leliana’s laugh was a little incredulous, and Cullen couldn’t blame her. It was an uncharacteristically naive thing for Mara to say. “Do you think that would stop any powerful man?” 

“Right. Point taken.” With a grimace, Mara turned to Cullen. “That was a huge waste of time. I was pleasant for nothing.” 

“Were you really flirting with him?” Cullen didn’t mean to sound jealous, but he was a little jealous, as silly as it was. She obviously had no interest in the Arl.

“No.” Mara seemed to sense that it was bothering him, and took one of his hands in hers, squeezing. “But I smiled and was nice to him. For some men, that’s flirting.”

Now Leliana’s laugh was a little darker. “For some men, that’s an invitation.” 

Mara shook her head. “But not the Arl – he’s a good man. Better than his brother,” she said under her breath. ”Teagan… or Ferelden, I suppose, is scared of the power of the Inquisition. It’s an unchecked army on their border with close ties to Orlais. You still hold Caer Bronach in Crestwood. Any help the Inquisition has given in the last two years isn’t enough to combat that. And he’s not alone in thinking it’s become too big and too powerful to continue. He’s not going to be won over.” 

Leliana nodded, thoughtful. “I must take my leave of you. Thank you for speaking with him, Mistress Amell. Commander, I shall see you soon.” 

They watched her leave. “I really wasn’t flirting with him,” Mara said quietly. 

“I know, it’s fine, I just…” Cullen trailed off. “Have you eaten?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. Were you jealous?”

He began leading her in the direction of the kitchens, where food was always available at all hours. “Yes. It’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to.” 

She tugged on his arm to get him to stop, before sliding both her own around his waist to hold him to her. “You know you don’t ever have to worry about that, don’t you? I only want you.” 

He could ask her. He could ask her right now even though there were Orlesian nobles and servants alike eyeing them as they passed by. Five simple words: _Mara, will you marry me?_

But he didn’t. He could see the worry in her eyes, that old worry that still lingered. Mara had unthawed a lot in the last two years, although there remained few people she was close to. There was her sister, of course – the two had grown close over the last two years. Both seemed determined to make up for the years lost to them, and Mara doted on Leah. 

While Mara had seemed to be close to Morrigan, the witch’s departure after the defeat of Corypheus hadn’t seemed to bother her that much. She had seen Morrigan and Kieran off with a heavy look, watching them until they could no longer been seen over the bridge. Cullen wasn’t going to even pretend he understood that relationship, though he kept his relief at Morrigan’s departure to himself.

Mara was also close to Leliana, of course, and she’d also struck up a good friendship with Dorian – another one she missed greatly when he left to return to Tevinter. Even she and Cassandra managed to find some common ground, forging what Cullen could only think of as the most prickly friendship he’d ever seen. And she’d also come to enjoy spending time with the other mages – something no one was more surprised about than Mara herself. 

The Inquisition mages mostly monitored themselves. There were templars, of course, but there had been no incidents of possession that required their services. Clashes between the two groups still occasionally happened, but there was a certain harmony between them now that Cullen had never expected. All of the mages relished their freedom and being useful for the Inquisition, but many still enjoyed the security of a Circle – if the mage tower at Skyhold could even be called as such. They formed relationships, there had been some marriages and children – with each other and also with non mages. Truthfully, it had made Cullen uncomfortable until he’d seen that it was working, at least so far. They were living a life now, not just an existence. 

Cullen wished he could say the same for the templars. Skyhold was a better place for them than the alternative – red templars under Corypheus’ thrall, or dead. But they were still leashed to their lyrium. It bothered him immensely to see them so, although he could understand why someone would be unwilling to give it up. Over two years on, and he still often struggled himself. 

He knew that Mara still struggled too – with her ghosts and memories and grief and occasionally sometimes an overwhelming need to run away. But she was honest with him – as he was with her – and at some point they’d stopped talking one step forward and two steps back and instead began walking in step together. In her, Cullen had found a happiness he’d never expected to find – a quiet contentment of waking up next to the woman he loved, a joy at seeing her smiles grow more frequent, a peace that came with knowing she loved him too and that she would still be here tomorrow.

But he could still see how careful she was in her use of magic around him, and knew there remained a fear in her about his reaction to it. If there was one thing that Cullen had never expected, it was that out of the two of them, it would be him that was more secure in their relationship.

Asking her to marry him would surely help that, he thought, now that they’ve more time together and spoken on the topic extensively. But it was hardly why he wanted to marry her. He wanted to marry her because he loved her, and because he fully intended on spending the rest of his life with her. 

“Cullen?” Mara reached up to touch his cheek. He’d gotten completely lost in his thoughts, despite everything. This headache was making it hard to focus.

“I”m sorry, I know – I’m not worried. At least not about that. I trust you. I was just taken off guard to see the Arl actually smiling.” 

One side of her lips rose a little, but worry still creased her face. “Are you okay, Cullen?” Mara dropped her voice, obviously trying to keep their conversation even a little private. 

They resumed walking, the halls growing quieter as night drew in. Everyone in the palace knew something was wrong. There was no revelry taking place tonight. 

“I’m concerned for the Inquisitor, she’s been gone several hours.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but Cullen didn’t want to worry Mara. 

Mara stepped in front of him, halting him. She scrutinised him with narrowed eyes. “Go back to the room.”

“What?”

“Go back and wait for me, I’ll bring back food and something for your head. When there’s news on the Inquisitor, it’ll be the first place someone looks for you, at this hour.” 

Cullen knew she had long since sussed out when he was in pain or trying to hide it, or when he was having a particularly bad day. It had taken him some time to get used to someone looking after him, and then he’d realised that a lot of his friends had been doing it in different ways – Cassandra, Dorian, Leliana, Varric, Josephine. Mara was just more direct about it, and also wouldn’t hesitate to order him about like she just had in front of other people.

It was something that greatly entertained the others. Even the Inquisitor – who had never warmed up to Mara, although the two were cordial – had seemed to be amused by the sight of Mara fussing over him in her bossy manner. 

It did Cullen no good to forget that Mara had also been a Commander, even if she was happy to have put those days behind her. 

So he did as he was told and returned to the room, where Neriah was pleased to see him. He sat at the table, petting the mabari who rested her head on his leg, deep in thought. The quiet room, lit only with the fire and a smattering of candles, helped him relax slightly, but the pain still felt like it was stabbing into his brain. 

He was exhausted. 

Mara appeared quicker than he expected, followed by a servant who swiftly dropped off their food before departing. In her hands, she had a bag that he expected contained something for his pain, but as she pulled it out, he held up his hand, having come to a decision. 

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Cullen, if you’re in pain–”

He stood up, only to be taken by surprise by the sudden increase of pain in his head. He really should have known better. In a flash, Mara was by his side, easing him back into the chair. 

“I just meant,” he started again with a deep breath, gently taking the poultice out her hands and placing it on the table, “that… I’d be happy for you to use your magic. To help.” 

She was surprised, that was clear, and a little uncertain. Her hands now empty, she fidgeted with the long sleeves of one of the dresses she was obligated to wear at the Winter Palace. She wasn’t a high ranking member of the Inquisition, although as the Hero of Ferelden she was well known, so she didn’t have to wear the formal uniform Cullen suffered through wearing, but she also couldn’t get away with her usual clothing, which was very much chosen for its practicality and, according to Leliana, not nearly fashionable enough for a place like the Winter Palace. Cullen knew Mara wasn’t really a fan of the dresses, but he thought she looked very pretty in them, and had been rewarded with an eye-roll and a smile when he told her so. 

“Are you sure, Cullen?” Mara asked.

“I’m certain.” When she still hesitated, he reached out to grab her hand. “I trust you. And it would be easier than you having to make poultices and potions every day.”

“I don’t mind doing that,” she replied with a small smile. 

“I know, and don’t get me wrong – I’m grateful. And I also know that you’re careful in how you use your magic around me – and I’m grateful for that too. But I trust you. Your magic doesn’t scare me.” He’d seen her help too many people with it for it to be scary, even though he knew very well that she was just as capable with offensive magic – he had, after all, seen her in action in the Arbor Wilds just two years ago, raining down destruction on the Inquisition’s enemies as part of the army while the Inquisitor herself pressed forward to the Temple of Mythal. The impeccable control he’d noticed in her as an apprentice had only grown. 

It didn’t mean he had no problem at all with magic, or still didn’t have nightmares, or fear what blood mages could do. And Mara still sometimes seemed uncomfortable with the way he placed her apart from other mages. But – how could he not? He trusted her more than anyone in the world.

“Very well,” she said slowly. “Sit back. Just… tell me to stop at any time, if you need to.” 

He nodded sitting back in the chair, and Neriah rested her head on his leg again, watching the proceedings with interest. Mara moved behind him, and placed her hands on his head, giving him a gentle massage. He smiled to himself – he was sure she didn’t usually do this for her patients, and closed his eyes. The flow of her magic was so gentle at first he hardly felt it, but it grew stronger quickly, sliding like a balm across him. It was like a cooling, gentle breeze on a blistering hot day, refreshing and welcoming. Immediately the throb in his head lessened, and he could feel the relief spreading downwards through his body. He hadn’t even realised how tense he had been until the pain went away and he sagged into the chair. All the while, her fingers still scratching pleasantly across his scalp.

It was not invasive or unpleasant, like he knew she probably had the ability to make it. It was just exactly what he needed – and perhaps he had been foolish to have not considered this sooner. 

After a few moments, he felt Mara shift behind him, and strands of her hair brushed against his cheek and shoulder. He opened his eyes, tilting his head back to find her looking down at him with a tender expression. 

“Better?” 

“Much,” he murmured. “Thank you.” 

Mara’s hands moved down to splay across his chest so she could lean over and kiss him. Just a soft touch of her lips against his at first, and he thought that would be it because of her awkward position, but then she licked across his lips, and he opened up to her, letting her deepen the kiss to her liking. When she finally pulled away, it was with a grin.

“Is that how you heal everyone?” Cullen asked with raised eyebrows. 

“Special technique. Reserved for handsome people only.” 

“I’m glad to be special, then.” Cullen watched her move to the other side of the table to take her chair and eat and again _the_ question flashed in his mind. 

He had a ring and everything. He’d been carrying it around for months. 

“The magic,” Mara began. “It was okay?” 

He nodded. “I’m still not sure I would be comfortable with a stranger doing that, but I trust you. And maybe Dorian. But I hear he’s not one for healing.” He picked up his fork and took the covering off his own tray of food, taking pity when Neriah whined at him and cut off a piece of meat for her. 

Mara laughed quietly. “He certainly isn’t.” She paused, sobering up. “Thank you, for trusting me.” 

“I… I’ve trusted you for a long time. I think that I didn’t trust myself to be able to handle it.” Cullen pushed the food around on his plate. “That it would make it worse for me again.” 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

He fell silent, not really agreeing with her. But it had been a worry for him, and he was glad that he felt fine after it – better than fine, actually. The magic was more potent than poultices and potions and he’d not felt any panic at all. Though he meant what he’d said – it would be very different with an unknown mage. 

He took a deep breath. “You make me a better man, Mara. I–” 

He was interrupted – as usual – by a knock on the door. When he called for them to enter, a harried-looking Inquisition scout rushed in. “Commander, the Inquisitor’s back! Your presence is required.”

Cullen nodded, standing swiftly, knowing that he couldn’t delay. He also knew that Mara understood. So it was with a quick kiss to the side of her mouth that he took his leave to find out if any more disasters were going to befall them while they were at the Winter Palace.


	37. Chapter 37 – The Winter Palace – Two Years Later

**The Winter Palace – Two Years Later**

 

Cullen stood alone in the makeshift meeting room he and the other advisors had been using.

The Inquisitor had already left again, to find the Viddasala and put an end to the threat of a qunari invasion, as well as to also hopefully track down this agent of Fen’harel. 

Josephine was informing the nobles now of the threat, and he knew he had his own business to take care of.

But he kept thinking of Trevelyan. The reason for her air of desperation was now clear, and the sound of her pained scream, here in this room not that long ago, had shocked them all. 

The mark on her hand was killing her, and she knew it. Rainier knew it too, and the last vestiges of Cullen’s anger towards the man faded away as he’d seen how he’d looked at Trevelyan. They’d always seemed like a mismatched couple to him – although Cullen supposed he wasn’t one to judge – but the devastated look on Rainier’s face lingered with him. There was no doubt he loved the Inquisitor. And when Trevelyan had turned to Rainier, he’d schooled his face, and stood strong for her. 

It was not right that this is how it would end for her, eaten away by the mark she’d once considered a blessing from Andraste. It was also not right that this was how her Inquisition would end – with noble squabbling and politicking. 

Cullen sighed, drawing himself upright. Enough brooding, he decided. He had work to do.

 

\---

 

Rainier carried Trevelyan back through the eluvian, ashen-faced, along with a shaken Dorian and Varric. He’d shouted for healers and the Inquisition guards went straight for Mara.

She was already in the infirmary when Cullen made his way there. The Orlesian healers and surgeons buzzed about, equal parts outraged that a Fereldan was getting in their way while also being relieved that it wouldn’t be on their head if the Inquisitor died. 

Cullen had already received a brief report and knew the major details of what had happened. His mind was still whirling from it all, from the revelation that Solas was Fen’harel. 

Solas was their enemy. 

He also knew what had happened to the Inquisitor. 

“How is she?” He asked in a hushed voice as Mara left the Inquisitor’s side to walk over to him. Rainier didn’t even seem to notice that Cullen was in the room. He sat beside her where she lay on a bed, holding her hand in his own, bowed over the sleeping form of his beloved.

“She’ll survive,” Mara spoke in the same quiet tone as Cullen. Rainier ignored them both. “I’ve never seen anything like the magic Solas used. It was powerful, and made it easier to… remove. It was clean, no infection, no major blood loss…” She trailed off, staring speculatively at Trevelyan. “I wish I knew how he did it, it’s like he didn’t want her to suffer. Although she was very weak when they brought her here. The mark had brought her close to death.” She paused. “Whatever else you can say about him, Solas saved her life.”

“When will she wake?” Cullen was very aware that Josephine was now fighting alone for the Inquisition. The Exalted Council had not wanted to halt over this, despite Leliana’s attempts to postpone while the Inquisitor recovered, _and_ despite that fact that the Inquisitor had just saved them all, again. 

“Anytime, technically. She’s just sleeping. But I’d rather she rest, her body has been through a lot and she was in shock.” Mara nodded towards Rainier. “He hasn’t left her side.”

Cullen shook his head, his thoughts whirling. “I’m glad she has him.” And he was. The last couple of days had made him reconsider his attitude towards Rainier, although he doubted they would ever be friends. 

His eyes drifted again to the Inquisitor. It was so strange to see her like this – the last time had been when they’d found her after the destruction of Haven, half frozen to death. He’d become so used to seeing the Inquisitor mask on her since then, with her strength growing in leaps and bounds, that it was disconcerting to see her look so small and frail in an infirmary bed. 

All the while Orlais and Ferelden battled over the Inquisition’s fate – her Inquisition, while she couldn’t defend herself.

Maker, he really hated the Winter Palace. 

 

\---

 

Hours later, he wandered back to his room in a daze, wondering if the news had reached Mara yet. He found her dozing on the bed, with Neriah sprawled beside her, but she quickly got up when Cullen entered the room.

“What happened?” She demanded, still a bit sleepy. “The Inquisitor woke up and hardly let me look at her before she left, and the guards wouldn’t let me into the audience.” A scowl crossed her face as she spoke, clearly unimpressed with how she’d been treated. 

“The Inquisition has been disbanded,” he said, walking towards the bed still in slight disbelief. Mara’s eyebrows raised. He truly hadn’t expected it – Trevelyan was devout, even though she had struggled with her faith in the last two years, and the Inquisition could have served Divine Victoria. But she had been correct when she’d told the Council that the Inquisition’s work was done – they had restored order. Cullen knew that it could well be the knowledge that they were so compromised that forced her hand. How could they work against Solas when he knew everything about them and their organisation?  

Mara was surprised too. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.” She stepped closer to Cullen, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. He returned the gesture, and they were both quiet, lost in thought, knowing this meant great changes for them both. “What now?” She asked.

“I am unsure, but dismantling the Inquisition will take some time and I’ll help oversee that. And then… Solas remains a threat, but I…” He trailed off, gathering his thoughts and considering the future that was open to him. “I would still like to help, of course, if I can, but I want to retire from active duty. I want to visit my family. And–” he took a deep breath, ”– I still want to marry you.” 

Actually what he wanted to do was cringe after he said that, because he’d meant to ask her, not tell her.

Mara drew back in surprise, to look him in the face, and he was relieved to see her lip curling upwards in a small smile. The last time he’d asked her to marry him had been such a disaster.

“You still want to marry me?” She asked, teasingly. 

“I do, “ he replied earnestly. “You know I do. And if I recall,” he continued, teasing her too, “you said you wanted to bear my children.” 

She was fighting a smile. “I don’t think I used those exact words.” 

“Oh, that was the gist of it. I remember it very well, because you were shouting.” 

Her smile warmed, and he was so relieved they could talk about this now without arguing. Mara placed her hand over his heart and turned her face up to his. “I was, wasn’t I. And while you technically didn’t ask, my answer is yes. I want to marry you too, and,” she went on with a slight eye roll, “bear your children, too, I suppose.” 

With a delighted laugh, Cullen kissed her, and Neriah bounced around them, barking. When they drew apart, Mara curled her fingers into the rich fabric of his formal uniform. “At least now you’ll never have to wear this ugly thing again.” 

“I disagree. I think it’s nice enough to be married in.” 

She made a face. “I might just have to accidentally rip it while tearing it from your body before then.” 

Once again Cullen laughed, feeling lighter and more hopeful than he ever had before, despite what the future may bring

“You are sure, aren’t you?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty about him. They’d spoken about marriage and their future more often since the first time he’d asked, and he knew Mara wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to, but still, a flicker of insecurity remained. 

“I am,” she said earnestly. “I know what I want. And I want you. I want to wake up beside you every morning in our own home, wherever it is.” She paused. “Leah will come with us, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. He’d long since come to consider Leah family, and he knew neither she nor Mara wished to be separated. He also knew his own siblings would accept them both with open arms. 

Neriah was still bouncing around them, barking. Cullen glanced down at her. “And Neriah, too of course.” 

Neriah quietened then, and sat, allowing Mara to pat her head. “Of course.” She looked from the dog to Cullen. “Do you want to get married at South Reach, with your family?”

Cullen drew her to him again, kissing her. “Yes,” he breathed against her lips. “With both our families.” 

 

\---

 

And so the Inquisition was done and everyone scattered across Thedas. Taking apart the large and sprawling organisation took some time. It was many months after the Exalted Council before Cullen and Mara officially took their leave of the Inquisition. They left, along with Leah and Neriah, while Josephine waved goodbye and the Inquisitor watched, solemn-faced, Rainier as ever by her side. Cullen wondered if he would ever see any of them again.

Their destination was South Reach.

Cullen’s family embraced Mara and Leah easily, as he expected. He’d felt awkward at first, his own guilty feelings about being such an absent brother for so long making him stumble over his words and be silent, leaving the far more gregarious Leah dealing with social niceties while Mia looked askance at him.

Mara knew immediately, and she wound her hand into his, turning into him so that only he could hear her words.

“You’re here now," she whispered, "and that's what matters."

 

\---

 

His awkwardness didn’t last long, and Cullen found a new joy in reconnecting with his family – both with his siblings and the nieces and nephews he’d never known.

The inclusion of himself, two mages, and a mabari proved to be an adjustment for all, and Mia’s farmhouse was at capacity. But the atmosphere was almost festive. 

He and Mara married at South Reach in the presence of his family and also more of her own family than first expected. There was Leah, of course, who now appeared to be joined at the hip with Cullen’s younger sister Rosalie. Leah had embraced the change and her future, even while she’d found it difficult to say goodbye to some of the people she’d known her entire life at Hasmal. 

And then there was Elijah. As Divine, Leliana’s reach extended further than ever, despite the seemingly endless opposition she faced. Not for the first time, Cullen was glad she wasn’t an enemy. 

Leliana had finally managed to track down another Amell and had gotten a message to him. 

He found his sisters at South Reach only weeks after they arrived.

The similarities between Mara and her twin were striking. He was handsome, with wild dark hair and sharp brown eyes. They were both tall and intense, but while Mara had softened considerably in the last few years, he was all edges, carrying bitterness and anger on him like armour. Evidently, his time at Ostwick hadn’t been good, and his years as a rebel mage even worse. It was clear that Elijah was, above all other things, a survivor. 

In truth, Elijah put Cullen on edge. Like all the Amells seemed to be, he was a powerful mage, and he was clever. He also had no love for templars and regarded Cullen with outright suspicion. They danced around each other, neither one wanting to upset Mara or Leah. But Cullen had the upper hand – despite his relation to Mara and Leah, Elijah knew that he was the outsider here. Whatever his feelings towards templars, he could hardly tell a sister he didn’t know how to live her life. 

It was his obvious care for both his sisters that make Cullen begin to warm up for him. Elijah looked at them both with wonder and hope, like a man who had seen his salvation. He and Mara had a special bond – perhaps due to the fact that they were twins, perhaps due to their similarities. Cullen didn’t know. Elijah only shared with Mara whatever secrets he held.

His family accepted another Amell into the fold with their usual warmth. Not even Elijah seemed immune to the charm onslaught of the Rutherfords. 

Leliana granted Cullen and Mara land just outside South Reach. It was given with the blessing of King Alistair, who finally forgave Mara for what happened during the Blight, so long ago, and who was a surprisingly jovial guest at their wedding. 

They began building their home and making their plans. For Cullen, it was establishing a sanctuary for former templars to assist them in giving up lyrium. For Mara and her siblings, they entered discussions with the newly established College of Enchanters and the Ferelden crown to build a place of learning for mages. Mara split her time between that and the sanctuary, where her healing skills were always in demand. 

Leliana kept them apprised of events going on in the wider world, and both Cullen and Mara knew there was always a good chance of them having to pick up their weapons and fight again.

But for now, they were at peace, and building a life that neither of them ever expected to have. 

And they were happy. 


End file.
